


Divided

by NoiraKai



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 57,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoiraKai/pseuds/NoiraKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain and Keeler make a deal behind Abel's back that changes everything. *cackles maniacally*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

**Abel**

 

Abel pressed his back up against the wall, trying desperately not to move, not to make any sound. Despite that, his breathing was ragged, and too loud he knew... but he had exerted himself too much to get some distance in between him and his pursuers. He held his gun in one hand, pointed at the ground, and put the other hand over his own mouth to muffle his gasps for air. Everything was so still, and hot, on this planet with barely enough atmosphere, and barely enough distance between it and its star. Abel had been issued special goggles to protect his eyes. They gave everything a blue tint and made him slightly twitchy, no longer trusting his peripheral vision.

He could hear them in the distance. _They'll find me soon. I can't run anymore... too tired,_ Abel thought, as he surveyed the scene of what would surely be his last stand. He was in the ruin of some one-room structure built of brick; all that was left of it was crumbling walls. No ceiling, no door. The sky above him was impossibly blue, the sun low and glaring. Abel hoped to give himself a split-second advantage by hiding in the long shadow of the wall to the left of the doorframe. He knelt down, to keep out of sight of whoever was going to come through.  

They wouldn't be friendly, he knew that much. He was the only one left. Abel exhaled with determination and slowly pointed his gun at the entrance. 

Everything had been going so well. They had done everything according to the plan. And it had worked, surprisingly, until --

_Why, Keeler.... why?_

\-- Abel tried to push it out of his mind. He had to focus now on remembering as much of his combat training as he could. How to shoot, how to hide... how to survive...

He could hear two sets of footsteps approaching, heavy crunches of boots hitting gravel, no need to be sneaky now when it was only a matter of time before they found their prey.  Then hushed voices, and he strained to hear. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but it sounded like they had a plan. 

Then there was no more talking, just the sound of a single pair of boots getting closer and closer... and closer, as Abel divided his remaining energy between being incredibly alert and staying perfectly still... and then someone was stepping through the door.

Keeler. Dressed in the same "smart-camouflage" fatigues that Abel thought he'd never have to wear... the same goggles with the same blind spots, the same uncertainty in the way he held his weapon, and a black bandana tying back his long blond hair and his trademark braid. 

Before Keeler could notice him, Abel aimed and took the shot, flinching at the sound the gun made. It grazed Keeler in the shoulder, startling him so he cried out and fell slightly backwards. Keeler shot blindly in the vague direction of Abel's hiding place, but he only hit the wall. Seizing the opportunity of Keeler's confusion, Abel took the time to aim again, knocking him off of his feet and kicking up dust.  Keeler's fatigues were stained with some color that might have been red if it weren't for the blue tint of Abel's goggles.

Abel kept his gun pointed at Keeler as he stood up. "You betrayed us!" He hissed quietly, his throat dry and dully throbbing in time with his heart.

Keeler just looked up at him, a wicked grin on his face, half coughing, half chuckling as he propped himself up with one arm.

"You bastard! You shot Ethos! _What the hell is going on?!_ " 

"Well, it's certainly more interesting this way, isn't it?" Keeler casually admitted -- well, as casually as he could manage under the circumstances.

Abel was still trying to figure out what exactly to say to that when --

Pop! Pop-Pop!

"Agh!" The back of Abel's shoulder and his arm were suddenly stinging. His kneejerk reaction was to face his attacker, and before he could remember to evade, he took another hit to the chest. His heavy armor protected him from the worst of it, but the shock of it all made him drop his weapon. He took a step backwards to catch himself as he looked up, struggling to see through the drops splattered on his goggles.

It was Cain. Standing on top of the jagged wall, pointing a gun at Abel, goggles resting on the top of his head, looking entirely bad-ass... Looking like he was doing what he was born to do. 

"It's over, princess," Cain said quietly, no joy in his voice. Then he pointed his rifle at the sky, resting it on his shoulder, and nodded at Keeler with an almost-smile.

Abel looked back and forth between Cain and Keeler as he slumped back against the wall, sliding down slowly, mind blank with shock and exhaustion and defeat. He and Keeler locked eyes. Cain climbed down the wall he had scaled while Abel was distracted with Keeler, stopping for a moment to say into his radio: "We got him. Meet back at the dead zone."

As Abel landed on the ground with a grunt, he pressed a hand against his arm, and then brought the hand toward his face and stared...

A mixture of green and blue paint.

Abel suddenly wondered how four Navigators had ever thought they could defeat four Fighters at Paintball.  Especially four Fighters who had somehow gotten to Keeler, and ruined all their strategic planning. Abel was not looking forward to hearing about it from Cain. Though he didn't mind so much how he would have to reward his Fighter for winning. Cain and Abel had made a bet on the outcome -- The loser would have to do whatever the winner wanted for the rest of their time on leave.

Meanwhile, Keeler sat there hunched, his arms leaning on his knees, looking too pleased with himself... not yet realizing he'd gotten red paint in his beautiful hair.

"Turncoat." Abel said accusingly with narrowed eyes, and then stuck out his tongue to show he wasn't all that mad.

Keeler just flashed him a radiant smile and fidgeted with his bandana. 

"Well, I hope it was worth it, whatever it was they promised you in exchange for your treachery," Abel said teasingly. 

"Oh I'm sure it will be," Keeler giggled.

Abel glanced at Keeler sideways. "What was it anyway?" he asked, suddenly not sure he wanted to know. He looked over at Cain, who was landing on the ground with a crunch.

"You." Keeler said, almost shyly, and smiled at Abel, waiting for him to absorb the meaning of his words. There was nothing predatory in Keeler's eyes, just pure bliss.

Despite that, Abel still had a scandalized look on his face, as Cain came striding over to his unlikely ally and offered him a hand. As soon as he pulled the Lieutenant to his feet, Cain gripped one hand on Keeler's arm and pointed the other finger in his face.  "Hey! Not _him_ ," he said and gestured in a wide circle in Abel's direction. "Fifty percent of him. And you'd better not be trying anything while I'm not around. And you'd _better_ not fucking try _anything_ once we get back to the--"

"Yes, yes, I remember the terms of our agreement," Keeler said, smirking as he crossed his arms. Abel was divided between trying to figure out what 'fifty percent of him' meant and processing the Negotiator side of Keeler's personality. "The question is, do you?"

"What are you talking about, just say what you mean to say."

"Aren't _you_ forgetting something?" Keeler asked, clearly gloating.

"What--" Cain started but then caught himself as he remembered. "No..." he said as he rolled his eyes.

"C'mon... say it..."

Cain looked down at the ground, hands on his hips, and muttered something under his breath.

"Louder..."

"We couldn't have won without you...Happy?"

Abel just watched as Cain and Keeler continued to bicker, glad to be forgotten, as his face was burning red like the nearby sun.  He smiled to himself, as he decided he didn't mind losing bets with Cain that much at all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Abel**

 

It had all started one day at chow time, after the Colteron shipyard had been destroyed. Several Fighter/Navigator teams had been permanently assigned to the Sleipnir, including Cain and Abel, and Praxis and Ethos. The group of friends had continued to defy the status-quo of the mess hall and integrated themselves at mealtime. So there the four of them were, Cain and Praxis barely tolerating each other for Deimos's sake, even though Deimos was running sims with Phobos. 

Praxis and Ethos were having some sort of debate, but Abel wasn't really paying attention. He was too occupied with the conversation he and Cain were having with their eyes across the table.

 

_Fuck yeah._

_What is that look for?_

_Oh, you know._

_Oh, do I now?_

_I've seen you naked._

_Hehe... yeahhh..._

_I'll probably see you naked again later._

_Cain, stop! They'll see you._

_Make me._

_I secretly have all the power in this relationship and you know it._

_Come over here and prove it then._

_Ugh! Oh you!_

"--Don't you think so, Abel?"

Abel knew he had a guilty look on his face, as he jerked his head over to look at Ethos.

"What -- sorry, what?" 

"Don't you agree, that Navigators have their own role to play in ground combat?"

"Well, only if absolutely necessary. But... sure, our arms and tactical training should be sufficient to--" 

" _Should be_ sufficient? When was the last time you even held a gun?" Praxis questioned skeptically.

"Well, there's a lot more to fighting a battle than shooting at people." Ethos said, and Cain and Praxis scoffed simultaneously. "Navigators specialize in strategy. And the coordination of advanced technologies which--"

"Look," Praxis interrupted, "All I'm saying, is that Navigators don't have any business being on the front lines."

"Because why?" Abel dared him to say it.

"Because you're-- because you're just not... _built_ for it." Praxis half-mumbled, looking down at his food.

"Because we're _weak_? Is that what you mean to say?"

"Come on," Cain chimed in, sounding for once like he was trying to be the mediator. "You wouldn't last five seconds in a combat zone, princess, even with all your shiny toys."

"You wanna bet?!"

"Abel..." Cain scolded.

"No. Seriously. Do you want to bet?" Abel said defiantly, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

He was answered by stunned silence from the two Fighters. Several moments passed and nobody said anything. Abel began to realize he'd pushed a button he didn't even know was there.

"Abel." Cain's voice was suddenly thick, burdened with some emotion completely unfamiliar to Abel's ears. "What are you going to do? Throw yourself into a firefight just to prove a point? That's crazy."

"Yes. Abel. Listen to Cain.  _Cain_ is saying that it's crazy.  _That should tell you something._ " Praxis said, only half-joking. Abel set his jaw, already having made up his mind, too distracted with working out the details of his plan -- and that... tone... in Cain's voice -- to correct their assumptions just yet.

Cain furrowed his brow at Praxis, then looked back at Abel with heartbreaking eyes. "Besides. What are you going to do, huh? Call up the Colterons and ask them to meet for a quick skirmish? War doesn't work like that."

"No no no -- I know -- What I was thinking... you know, we're scheduled for leave next week--"

" _You want to go shoot at Colterons on your time off?_ "

"No! No...I want us to shoot at each other." He smiled.

And then Abel explained his plan.  Four Fighter/Navigator teams. Black vs. White. Elimination. The ultimate showdown between sharpshooting and strategy.  And lots of pretty colors. 

 

* * *

 

Later, when they were alone in their room, naked and tangled in sheets, Cain pulled his head back and narrowed his eyes at Abel.

"What?" Abel murmured, already almost asleep.

"Didn't you say something about a bet?" Cain was looking into Abel's eyes like he was seeing them for the first time.

"Well..." Abel said, yawning and stretching lazily. "Let's see. What do you have... that I might have interest in?"

"Oh, I can think of something," Cain said with a rude gesture and a wicked smirk.

"Please... I can have that any time."

"Tch. Is that so?"

And then Abel moved fast as lightning, throwing Cain onto his back and straddling him, bringing them nose to nose, daring him to argue if Abel wanted to go again.

Cain did his best to look unimpressed, but his cock told a different story, thumping against Abel's asscheek with a mind of its own.

"How about this." Abel stole a kiss, taking advantage of Cain being in an affectionate mood. "If my team wins, you have to be my slave for the rest of the week."

"Why make me your _slave_ , when you can have me any time that you want?" Cain quipped.

"Who says that being my _slave_ would have anything to do with your dick?" Abel said and cocked his head to one side tauntingly.

Cain looked impressed then.

"All right, hot stuff.  _If_ you win, which you won't, I'll be your slave for a week."

"And if  _you_ win? Which you won't?"

And then Abel was on his back on the bed, and Cain was on top of him, pushing him into the mattress with strong arms.

"Then nothing will change. You're already mine." Cain growled in his ear.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: "Hood" by Perfume Genius

**Keeler**

_Alone._

(Crunch... crunch)

 _Again._  

(Crunch)

Keeler leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He was bundled up in his bed with his sound-proof headphones, and a bag of candy from the ship's canteen that was the perfect mixture of salty and sweet.  Drowning his ears with music and a crunchy snack so he wouldn't have to hear the deafening silence of space.

_God, this is depressing._

(Crunch crunch)

_Sigh._

He looked over at his computer to see if he had any new messages for the tenth time in ten minutes.

 _Well, it can't hurt to re-read the last one._   

 

[Oh, that is perfect. They'll never suspect it. I'm so glad you're doing this with me.]

 

(Crunch)

(Crunch crunch)

 

Keeler startled a little when the door opened. But of course it was just Encke, who took one look at Keeler and his headphones and his snack and rolled his eyes.  _Oh for God's sake,_ Keeler read his lips say.

"What?!" he whined as he pulled his headphones off to rest on his shoulders. 

Encke was sweaty and out of breath, in his workout clothes. It was clear he was in bad need of a shower, and probably wanted one for once. But instead, he just grabbed a towel and slumped onto the bed on the other side of the room.

"Alright, out with it. What's wrong?" he asked, exasperated, wiping sweat off his neck.

"Nothing!"

"Oh,  _please_ like we haven't had _this_ conversation before." And even that was a repeat. "Can we just skip past the part where you act like you don't want to tell me? Can we skip past all of that, and just tell me? So that one of us can move on at least?"  

_Sigh._

 

Okay, so they were skipping past that. Skipping past the part where Keeler fretted that Encke didn't want to hear about his problems. Skipping past the part where they danced around the fact that long ago, they had liked each other, and gotten a little tipsy and made out...  Skipping past the part where Keeler got a little tipsy again, in order to get the courage to talk about what was bothering him -- Okay, maybe more than a little tipsy -- 

 

"Okay. Fine. It's... Abel."

Encke sighed with what almost passed as relief. "Of course it is."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Keeler. Dark eyes, highlights in his hair, ballsy young pilot? Are you honestly going to tell me he doesn't remind you of _anyone_?"

Keeler ran a hand through his hair, looking for the answer Encke wanted to hear. Suddenly trying not to think about Abel's balls.

"Flipping your hair isn't a response, Keeler."

"That-- that wasn't flipping! It was  _adjusting_. I don't...'flip.'"

"Uh-huh." Encke held his forehead in one hand, as if to shield himself from what would happen next. "Anyway, isn't Abel with Cain--"

"--God, WHY?" Keeler exclaimed as he threw his head back, punching at the mattress with a fist to emphasize his words. "Why do I _always do_ this? Why do I _always fall_ for someone who's already taken? Am I incapable of finding single guys attractive? Am I just unobtain-sexual or something?!"

"Keeler. Two times doesn't make a pattern. I may not be a genius Navigator but I know enough math to know that."

Keeler shrugged, not meeting Encke's eyes. 

"And you know as well as I do, that if you actually got off your ass, and did something -- made a move -- instead of sitting here moping about it, checking your messages, eating _comfort_ food like a girl--"

Keeler looked incredibly guilty with his lips closed a little too tight.

(Crunch)

"--you know you could steal Abel away from that asshole in two seconds. Here, give me some."

Encke got up and walked across the room with an open hand.

 

"Hey," (crunch) "These are actually" (crunch) "really good!"

"I know. It was  _his_ favorite food." Keeler admitted.

"Hmm." (crunch crunch)

"Yep."

 

Their moment of silence was broken by a chime at the door.

 

"I bet that's him now,"  Encke teased.

Keeler's heart started racing just at the thought. "Encke, don't even."

"Computer, who's at the door?" Encke sounded like a kid on Christmas.

 

(Task name: Abel)

(Designation: Navigator)

(Ranking: 2)

 

Encke put on his best  _you're totally gonna get some_ smirk. He was practically doing a dance.

 "Shit. _Shit_! _What is he doing here?_ Encke. Encke what do I do?"

"Keeler. Relax, it's Abel. Not the Inter-Solar System Police."

"Encke I'm in my pajamas."

"Well, surprisingly, that isn't a crime. Though you do look criminally good in those --"

"Hey." Keeler gave Encke a glare that was equal parts _watch yourself_ and  _you know it_.

"Okay, grab some clothes, get in the bathroom, and I'll answer the door," Encke whispered like they were about to pull off the heist of the century. Stealing Abel away from Cain might have been just that.

"Okay. Okay." Keeler whispered back, as he jumped up and scrambled towards a small dresser. "Okay okay."  

"And _cool your jets_ , Lieutenant. I'm not sure _Abel's_ heart will be able to take it if he puts _you_ in the med bay."

Keeler took a deep breath and exhaled as he stepped into the bathroom. "Hoo! Okay."

"And Keeler?"

He froze and looked over his shoulder at Encke, hunching his shoulders to protect against one last reprimand:

"Will you actually take my advice this time, for fuck's sake?"

Keeler looked incredibly guilty as he closed the door.

For fuck's sake indeed.

 

"Lieutenant Encke!"

"Hello, Abel. Here to see Keeler?"

_Must-- get -- clothes -- off._

"Yes sir."

"He's just making himself decent."

"Oh!!! Well.... if this is a bad time!"

_Must -- not -- think about -- being naked -- near Abel --_

"Oh, no, nothing like that." And then Encke lowered his voice and Keeler suddenly _hated_ him. 

"Oh, I see." Abel was laughing nervously. Keeler could almost hear him blush. "No I suppose that wouldn't do at all."

_Get -- dressed -- Kill -- Encke --_

"I actually stopped by to see if Keeler wanted to go over strategies. For our game next week."

"Oh, well... can I see that?"

"Haha, no..." 

_ENCKE! STOP FLIRTING WITH MY FUTURE BOYFRIEND!_

_Be cool -- Be cool._

 

Keeler composed himself and opened the door, putting on his best Lieutenant smile. 

"Oh, good evening, sir."  Abel smiled politely, his hands full of charts and maps.

"Hello, Abel. What brings you up to officer country at this hour?"

"Well, we'd been messaging back and forth so much, I just thought it would be easier to go over this in person!"

"Great idea! Come on in!"

"Oh! Well what about Encke? I was thinking we could go--"

_Get  -- lost._

"Well... I was just going out to do some laps." Encke lied as he saw the threat in Keeler's eyes. 

_That's right, Fighter. Run._

"Oh! Well, um, that works too!" Abel smiled shyly. It looked like rusty gears were slowly starting to turn in his mind.

"Later, Keeler." Encke winked as he stepped out the door.

 

* * *

 

"This is great stuff, Abel."

Keeler had strategically positioned himself on the bed so he was sitting just the right distance away from Abel, amongst all the computers and maps. Not too close, not too far away. 

"This tactic will be difficult for your enemy to predict, and relatively easy for your team to follow."

"But, I thought, since you're an officer... Don't you want to lead the team?"

"Well, Encke and I have been talking about it. We think, even though this isn't an official military exercise, that it would be a good leadership experience for you and your fighter."

"Really?!"

"Yep! In fact, depending on how this goes, we might look into doing official ground combat scenarios. I've always enjoyed war games." He flashed the Lieutenant Keeler smile.

"You... want me and Cain to lead the teams?" Abel's expression was divided between flattered and mortified.

"Well this was your idea after all. I'm sure you'll do great. And I'll be your second, of course. I'll be right there on the radio if you need me."

"Well.... okay..."

 "I would wait, though, until right before the game to share this plan with the others. It's like Commander McDonnell used to say at the Academy. Knowing is half the battle --"

"And making sure your opponent doesn't know what  _you_  know, is the other half, you know! I loved McDonnell's class!" Abel's eyes lit up with nostalgia.

"Oh, man, he was my favorite!" Keeler dropped his voice. "Did you ever see him in his kilt?" 

Abel was right there with him. "Oh, no but I heard about it. By the time I got there, they'd made him stop wearing it at formal functions. Said it caused too much of a disruption."

"He was sooo proud of his Scottish 'heritage', if you know what I mean."

"Oh my gosh! Hahaha, Keeler!" And there was that blush again as Abel lightly shoved at Keeler's shoulder in rebuke. 

There was Keeler's signal to move. He giggled wickedly and flashed his other smile at Abel, the smile that was just Keeler. He emphasized it by putting a hand on top of Abel's hand on the bed. Placed so it might be interpreted as an accident. But Abel had been the best in his class at the Academy. Abel wouldn't be fooled in the slightest. 

"Ahem. Keeler."

"Hmm?" He answered as their fingers intertwined. It felt like there was a dog fight between tiny Starfighters going on in Keeler's stomach.

Abel's voice was hoarse with regret. "I -- I think you're really great. But --"

"I think you're really great too." Keeler interrupted, now knowing he was tenuously holding a position and no ground was to be gained. "Can we just, pause the conversation there for, like, five minutes?" he pleaded as he leaned imperceptibly closer to Abel's face.

"No. We can't. Keeler..." There was pain in his voice as he pulled his hand away, and shifted a few inches over on the bed. Keeler felt the sensation rushing out of his skin like sand through an hourglass. "I'm sorry. I can't. I have a b--" Abel's eyes retreated to the side. "I'm with someone."

_Sigh._

"I know. It's okay, Abel. I just... really like you. You can't blame me for trying, right?"

"Heh. I guess not."

"But can I just say one thing -- as a friend? You know I'm a biased source now, but -- please hear me out."

"Sure. Okay?"

"I think you deserve to be with someone who doesn't mind being called your boyfriend."

Abel looked like he would rather follow an invisible map on the floor that led out an airlock, than follow Keeler's train of thought.

"But let's just forget this ever happened. It was unprofessional of me--"

"I wouldn't care if it was unprofessional." Abel blurted out.  "It's just... you know..."

"Thanks. It's nice to hear you say that?" And even though it was awkward now, Keeler still didn't want the moment to end, as he made Abel laugh one more time. But Abel raised an eyebrow as if begging Keeler to dismiss him.

He put his Lieutenant smile back on as he stood up, straightening his uniform and trying really hard not to fall over for how dizzy he felt.  Abel hurriedly gather his things.  

"I'll see you tomorrow in the lab."

"Ok. Goodnight, Keeler." Abel's smile was still genuine even now. And the fact he had been so kind and honest about ripping out Keeler's metaphorical heart, made his real one leap in his chest. 

"Goodnight."

 

 Keeler should have paged Encke and told him he could come back to the room. He threw himself onto the bed instead, still in his clothes, and put his headphones back on.

_I just want to be alone._


	4. Chapter 4

**Abel**

 

Abel managed to hold it in all the way down the long corridor... fought to keep himself composed until the elevator doors finally sealed, clutching his tablet and stack of maps against his chest as he waited. Then he turned around, and helplessly collided his forehead with the wall.

“What am I _doing?”_ Abel asked himself, leaning face first against the cold metal, squeezing his eyes tight to avoid the regret.

So close, after weeks of thinking about it, formulating a plan of how to report to Keeler and date him at the same time, only to blow it when he finally got the chance. But _why?_

Abel pulled his head away from the wall, looking into the murky reflection of his face in the steel, only a blur of flesh and blond and green and black. And Abel knew without really being able to see, that he looked tired.

He felt tired, though not from lack of sleep. This was something else, something deeper... a battle that had raged for too long in his heart. For what must have been the millionth time, he went over the facts again in his head.

 

_One, Cain obviously doesn't love you. It's probably nothing personal; who knows if he's even capable of love?_

_Two, Keeler ~~has shown signs of~~ _ has overtly expressed _interest in you._

_Three, you and Cain aren't in a relationship. You're just sleeping together. Therefore, spending time with Keeler would not be cheating._

_Four, even if it was cheating, Cain is probably sleeping with other people, so he wouldn't have much ground to stand on if you were just hanging out with Keeler and getting to know each other._

_Five, Cain might overreact if he found out, but seeing as you've never established that you're in an exclusive relationship, it is not your problem if he chooses to take it badly._

_Six, thinking about being in a relationship with Keeler doesn't make your insides twist themselves into knots._

_Seven, thinking about breaking things off with Cain does hurt, but yeah. Breakups suck. Except it wouldn't be a breakup. Because you're not in a relationship._

_Eight, the sooner you start seeing someone else, the sooner you can get over whatever feelings you do have for Cain._

 

_Nine, "you deserve to be with someone who doesn't mind being called your boyfriend."_

Abel pressed his fist to his lips as he stared into his own eyes, trying somehow to hold back the tidal wave of all the things he didn't want to feel.

_Cain obviously doesn't love you. Falling in love with Cain would be incredibly, unbelievably, and grievously stupid._

 

Abel stood there for a long time before he remembered to push the button that would make the elevator move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The purpose of this new chapter 4 is really to make sure the reader understands how Abel feels about Cain and Keeler at the beginning of the story before everything gets complicated. Or really, maybe just to make myself feel better.


	5. Chapter 5

  
**Cain**  

 

_"Encke is down."_

_  
_"Fucking FUCK!"

 

Cain muttered profanities in a variety of languages and seethed in the afternoon sun, a lone soldier in the ruins of a failed colony. Once full of people, one day they had all decided it was too hot to live there. Now the planet was abandoned to be slowly stripped of its resources, to support the massive space station in its orbit. Pipes from various low-orbit mining rigs jutted out of the sky, as if holding up the whole planet on strings.

He looked up at the station. As was typical for a soldier far from home, Cain found himself wishing for a long shower, a soft bed, and a hot lover. He knew that two of those things were waiting for him in the sky once all this was over. Unfortunately in this instance, his hot lover was also the enemy captain, who was currently kicking his ass.

Cain was mad. So mad, blue goggles on, but he was still seeing red. So distracted he almost missed the glimmer, as something moved almost straight ahead of him.

Cain pulled his goggles to the top of his head to get a better look. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the brighter light, he could just make out the silhouette of something on the wall. Like a chameleon was standing next to it. A really, really big, blond chameleon.

Smart camouflage. Mother fuckers. 

In fairness, they had said the fighters could use whatever military equipment they wanted, as long as it wasn't a weapon. It would never have occured to Cain to use smart camo, though, since it was heavy, and hot. And in order for it to work, you had to stand perfectly still.

Whoever-it-was faced away from him, hugging the corner of an alleyway. Too busy watching both ways of the street, and fidgeting, and not able to check behind him without moving too much.

Cain looked down the sight of his gun with cold eyes, but he was still too far away to make the shot with a flimsy toy. He would have to sneak up a little more. If his opponent was unseen, he would have to be unheard.

And that gave him an idea.

He walked ever-so-slowly towards the glimmer on the wall, knowing that any moment, it could turn around and see him. But that was fine if it did. He'd just shoot it in the face and be done with it.

Okay, not face. Chest, not face.

And the blond chameleon didn't even flinch until Cain had a hand over his mouth, and was dragging him further back in the alleyway. The holographic illusion shattered into a million colorful pieces.

"Mmph! Mmm-mmmm!!!!"

"Hello, Keeler," Cain mused, as he pinned the blond officer up against the wall, a hand on each side of his head. He ripped the earpiece out of Keeler's ear, cutting him off from his lifeline, and pushed the button that switched off the camouflage suit.

"Cain! This is not supposed to be a contact sport." Keeler was straining to keep his face as far away from Cain's as possible.

"Well, let's see. You're wearing stealth equipment, your fucking pansy-ass Navi's have already taken out two of my men, I don't know where the fuck any of your people are, and it's hot as hell. So you'll have to excuse me if I improvise a little."

"It's not improvisation, it's cheating."

Cain scoffed. "This is war, love. It's only cheating if you lose."

Keeler just studied him for a few seconds, as if _he_ could be read like a map. "Why don't you just shoot me and take me out of the game already?"

Cain leaned in even closer. He would do anything to win at this point, even if it meant mildly harassing a very attractive superior officer. "Because you're going to help me," he purred, practically into Keeler's neck. "You're going to take me to your pansy-ass Navigator friends."

Keeler's expression softened, his eyes fluttering for an instant before he went back into officer mode. "You're not going to get very far with me by making threats and clearly disproven insults, Cain."

"Heh, who said anything about threatening..." Cain trailed off as he was distracted by barking in his ear. "I prefer the term... negotiate..." He put his finger up to his earpiece. "Hold on a minute, Praxis. Stay where you are. There's been a... development."

Keeler was still studying him out. "Well I see no reason to help you, if I'm not going to get part of your winnings, at least."

" _Winnings_?" This was not the negotiation Cain had in mind. He was just hoping to do something quick with Keeler that wouldn't count as cheating. Because he was going to win.

"The bet. Everybody knows you have some sort of bet going with Abel over this. I want in. Fifty percent."

Cain's eyes darted back and forth as he tried to do the math. What was fifty percent of having his way with Abel for a week?

And then bells and alarms and sirens and flashing lights started going off in Cain's brain. 

"Abel didn't uh... tell you what the bet was?" Cain was calculating so fast he could hardly speak. 

"No." Keeler looked like he didn't care. "But here are my terms. I want half of whatever it is. And in addition, when all this is done, I want you to admit that you couldn't have won without me. A Navigator."

Cain was taken aback by the sudden demands, but entirely too amused that Keeler had no idea what he was asking for.  He wiped some sweat off his nose with the back of his hand to bring himself back to reality. "Heh, okay. Tell you what." He did his best to shift his posture from soldier-Cain to seducer-Cain, while still pinning Keeler to the wall.  "I'll give you your fifty percent. But only if I'm allowed to _watch_ when you spend it."

Keeler stared at Cain's wicked smirk like he was a madman. Then slowly his light eyes melted in understanding. "No way." 

Cain's knowledge of Earth accents told him it was a question. "Ha, yeah." _Fuck yeah._

"The bet is about sex?!"

"Well, the loser has to be the winner's slave for the rest of the week. Not _necessarily_ sex, but--" 

"How did you ever get Abel to agree to _that_?" 

"Uh, it was his idea." Cain shrugged, then nodded at Keeler's look of disbelief.

Keeler looked slightly scandalized, but suprisingly interested. Clearly he was calculating, too.

"But let's be clear," Cain reiterated by poking at Keeler's shoulder with each word. "No getting into Abel's pants unless I get to watch."

Keeler pondered. "Well, let's say I wanted him to do something... fairly innocuous. Like... wash my feet for example. Would you have to be present for that, too?"

Cain took a step back from the wall. Now it was his turn to look at Keeler like he was insane, wondering if he was using this foreign word 'innocuous' correctly. "What, you have some sort of thing with your feet?"

"That's none of your business. Is it over the line or not?" was Keeler's answer. In other words  _yes_.

Cain shifted his weight, looking at the ground to his left and right -- as if that would help him avoid the mental images of Keeler getting off on Abel playing with his toes. "Fucking weird navigators," he muttered under his breath. It was half-wish and half-commentary, really.

As Cain mulled over the deal, Keeler swung his pack around on his shoulder and pulled out a black cloth. He dabbed sweat off his forehead and then tied it over his hair as a bandana.

"Look," Cain finally said, rolling his eyes. "I don't care. You want him to wash your feet, paint your toenails, darn your socks, I don't care. But," he put a finger over Keeler's heart. "His clothes don't come off, unless _I_ take them off." 

"Does that mean kissing is okay?" Keeler's eyes brightened slightly. He was still trying to do evasive maneuvers, even on the ground.

Cain cocked his head to the side. As if he was going to force his b--  ...force Abel to kiss another man. "Let's try to focus on the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law, eh, Keeler? Hm?"

Keeler's eyes narrowed somewhat. "Wow, that's... very learned of you." Cain's knowledge of Earth accents told him he was being insulted.

"What, I watched a crime show on TV once," Cain lied. No point in bringing up his juvenile delinquency right now. "Let's go."

 

* * *

 

The Navigator led him to a shaded store front a few blocks away, then signaled for Cain to stay put. 

"Two of them should be just around this corner," Keeler whispered as he fidgeted with his gun. "I should be able to lure them out, and take one of them out, before they realize what's going on. You stay here until then."

"Wait!" Keeler suddenly seemed a little too in his element. Cain grabbed the blond's arm and sneered, trying to speak as softly and as scarily as possible. "Why are you so eager all of a sudden to help me?"

"Why are you so eager to win?" 

"Because I don't like losing."

"Neither do I," Keeler answered as he walked away. Cain got the feeling he was talking about something else entirely.

 

"Keeler. Why aren't you at your post?!" Abel sounded strangely... authoritative. It was kind of hot. Cain instinctively pressed himself tighter against the wall.

"There's been a change of plan," Keeler said flatly. Cain inched his face towards the corner to watch. All he could see was Keeler and the shadow of another chameleon.

"What are you talking about? What's wrong?" The chameleon faded into Abel as it stepped off the wall.  "Why haven't you been on the radio?" 

"First lesson of leadership, Abel: sometimes, you have to improvise." Then Keeler spun around and fired three quick shots at another chameleon Cain hadn't even noticed. They had set up an ambush for him, right here on the main street.

"What the -- Keeler! You shot me!" It was the other one. The one with the curly hair, what was his name?

Cain could see the panic in Abel's eyes as he retreated back towards the wall and vanished. And there was the flaw with the smart camo: once your opponent disappeared, you knew precisely where he was. Of course the Colterons didn't know that. But Cain did. He swung around the corner and shot at the wall. But Abel had seen him and appeared again, ducking just in time. Then he bolted out of Cain's line of sight.

"Come on! Let's go Keeler!" Cain started after him.

"No, wait." 

"Come on, he's getting away!" He looked over his shoulder to see Keeler rummaging through a bag on the ground. Abel must have left it behind.

"Here." Keeler held out a green tablet that had a map and four dots on it. One for each member of the White team. "Ethos, you're dead now, remember?"

Ethos was still standing there, covered in paint, looking entirely horrified. "Oh... Yeah... Ethos is down," he sang mopingly into the radio.

Cain watched as one of the dots disappeared from the screen.  And one of the remaining was Keeler...

"He's headed this way. Come on."  But Keeler didn't run, just walked briskly in the direction he had indicated.

Cain was trying hard not to be skeptical, as he fell in line, behind a blond lieutenant for the first time maybe ever. "You were awfully quick to turn on your team back there, love. I didn't think you to be so cold-blooded." 

"Well the game was getting a little boring anyway. Didn't really seem fair."

Cain's pride wouldn't let him concur with that train of thought. "Pretty sure you could have evened the odds, without making a deal with the devil. Or, rather, making _demands_ of the devil." 

Keeler kept walking as he glanced smugly at Cain over his shoulder. "Please, Cain, I was just trying to provoke you so you'd slip up and I could get away."

Cain furrowed his brow. Perhaps, he had been doing too much thinking with the wrong part of his anatomy. "So... you were just _playing me_?"

"Yep."

Cain came to a halt, jutting his jaw out in displeasure. "So then... why are you telling me this? Why did you go through with it?"

"Well, it was just too easy. It didn't really seem fair." Keeler shrugged, sounding very pleased with himself.

That was clearly the end of the discussion, as the lieutenant kept walking, looking at Abel's dot on the tracking screen. Cain just stared at the black bandana, following with uneven steps and trying to grasp some piece of the puzzle that eluded him. He thought he was getting what he wanted from Keeler, but maybe, it was the other way around.

"Hmm."  

Their boots made a crunching sound as they came to a gravel road. 

"Yep."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cain's nickname for Keeler is "love" because reasons ok? I just like it when English guys call people "love" so I stole it.


	6. Chapter 6

 

**Abel**

 

The sky was stained orange by the time they started back.  Twin trails of dust scraped across the sand, as the vehicles headed to a launch platform that would send them back to the station. A formation of two: they weren't even trying to race; it wouldn't do for them to get separated from each other in the desert if something went wrong. So Ethan just worked to match Keeler's speed, clocking it just right so it would have seemed like they were just floating above the ground, if not for the wind in their hair.

Ethan, now... he didn't feel like Abel out here. If he didn't think about it too hard, he could imagine he was driving his bike through the Nevada desert, like back when he was still a recruit. Before he'd even gotten his task name, before he'd met Cain, or Keeler, before --

"So Abel." Keeler interrupted his train of thought, a crackly voice in one ear.

"Yeah."

"Hmm, no sir yes sirs today?" Keeler sounded more impressed than irritated.

"Oh, sorry, Keeler. I guess I spaced out. Did you need something, sir?"

"That's okay, I was just kidding. Actually, I think I could get used to it... What were you thinking about?"

"Home."

Abel looked over at Keeler when he didn't respond. But he could only do so for half a second at a time; they were going so fast, and he had three Fighters' lives in his hands today, instead of just one. Abel glanced in the rear-view mirror. In addition to Cain, Praxis and Deimos were riding in the back, looking like they were at home just being with each other.

Finally Keeler blurted out, "I think you should take me to dinner."

"What?" Abel was suddenly grateful for the ferocious wind deafening all of his passengers and Keeler's too. Though Cain was sitting right behind him, arms stretched out, facing backward in the bed of the vehicle. Abel couldn't see if he was listening. 

"Your first command as my slave, uh, half-slave, is to buy me dinner."

"Y-you want me to take you out on a date?!" Abel stole another glance across. It seemed since Keeler couldn't date him behind Cain's back, he'd found a way to do it in front of Cain's face. Abel decided he could get used to this, too.

"Yep. Wear something nice. Pick me up at nineteen hund -- err, seven. Pick me up at seven."

"Keeler..." Abel's heart was having a twinge of anxiety... or maybe two.

"Yes?"

"Will it be just the two of us?"

Then Cain's voice came from behind him. "You'd better show Keeler a nice time, hot stuff."

"You're... not going to come with us?" Abel glanced over at Keeler, knowing he could hear at least one side of their conversation.

"Nope. But just know, the longer you're gone, the more things I think of to do to you, when you come back." Cain still managed to have that purring sound in his voice, even though he was talking over the roaring wind.

"I'm not so sure that's a bad thing," Abel mused.

"Neither am I." Cain sounded surprised, like he'd made some unexpected discovery.

Abel drove in silence the rest of the way, trying to calculate out how _this_ seemingly perfect plan would fall apart. He couldn't anticipate. He just knew that when it happened, he would have to improvise to survive.

 

* * *

 

"It's about  _fucking_ time you got here." Abel blinked and then he was pinned against the door of the hotel room, all coherent thought being sucked and kissed and groped and humped out of his mind. Sex with Cain was like being high on chaos. There was nothing to do except close his eyes again, give in to falling apart and hope he would be put back together in the morning.

 _Sniff._ Then Cain stopped abruptly. "You smell like him."

Abel's eyes went wide. "We didn't-- Tch! How do you know what he sm--"

"Uh-uh. Now go and take a shower. Smell like Abel when you come out." And with a flick of his wrists, he pushed Abel halfway into the bathroom, and pushed him the rest of the way in with his eyes. He sat on the counter to supervise, bare feet, t-shirt and jeans, lighting up a cigarette as Abel undressed. 

Abel stepped into the tub and reached to close the curtain, looking over at Cain. The Fighter only raised an eyebrow. Abel left the curtain where it was and turned on the water.

He was in such a hurry to see what Cain would do next, that Abel caught himself strategizing about how to smell like himself in the most efficient manner possible. With one command, such a mindless habit had become something that required engineering. Chaos indeed. 

Cain whispered unspeakable things with his eyes through the steam and smoke, making Abel feel dirty even as he decided he was clean. He turned off the water, and immediately felt cold. Cain tossed him a towel and walked out of the bathroom. And it felt even colder.

He dried off as quickly as he could -- faster, because Cain wasn't there to see how frantic he was, how desperate, and hard. He timed his steps deliberately as he walked stark naked into the dimly lit room.

Cain was standing there, waiting.

 _Come here,_ he said with his eyes.

 _You're mine,_ he said with his teeth on Abel's lip, and on his neck, on his nipples... A litany of possession, as Cain got on his knees, kissing and biting and touching everywhere except the one place Abel needed him to... _You're mine, you're mine, mine, all mine, finally mine._

 

 _  
_Then Cain hoisted himself up, standing them both at the edge of the bed. He pressed his whole body up against Abel's back, all his civilian clothes nibbling and scratching at bare skin. There was a jingle of belt buckle, and then Cain's cock grinding against him. He reach around and took hold of Abel.

"You're so hard for me already," Cain mused as his other arm wrapped around, putting demanding fingers in Abel's face. Abel took them into his mouth and sucked _slow._

"I bet I could make you come right now if I wanted..."

" _Cain._ " Abel moaned as he leaned on the bed, arms stiff, fingers digging in to anchor him against the chaos firmly stroking his cock and unraveling him with fingers.

"I bet I could just say the word, and you would lose it," Cain snarled in his ear. And Abel believed him. He was beyond begging now, beyond words... divided between how badly he wanted it, and how scared it made him to want it so bad.

"Come for me, baby," Cain purred.

"Nnnhhh--Oh my GOD!"

And Abel _did_ , though Cain had barely even touched him, crying out and spilling his arms and his hair and his seed all over the sheets. Impossibly, another wave of it pulsed through him as Cain thrust in all the way to the hilt, punctuating the realization: That Cain had made him come with just four words whispered in his ear, and little else.

Cain didn't move then, still inside him, throbbing, giving Abel aftershocks of pleasure. Hands holding onto Abel's waist, his breathing ragged with need.

"Holy shit," he finally managed. Abel was still too fucked to respond.

"Holy  _shit._ Mmmmhhhh. Did you -- heh! -- did you really just come because I told you to?!" For a moment, Cain's fascination was eclipsing even his ego.

Still speechless, Abel just craned his neck and looked up at him, his eyes widening at the sight of Cain biting his own lip for once.

"Fucking hell, baby that is so hot" -- " _Cain" --_ "Come here.  _Come here_."

So much was happening at once, Abel was sure some law of space-time was being broken. Abel flipping over, Cain leaning down to meet him, their mouths crashing together, Cain hoisting him further onto the bed on his back, Cain's shirt coming off, grabbing for lube, hands and lips and tongues and feet and teeth everywhere. Cain was holding onto him so tight, as if to keep him from falling apart this time. His pants were still hugging his thighs as he dragged himself between Abel's legs. Cain was all over him, and then in him, slow and strong and inevitable like the tide before a storm. Abel just held tight and realized that Cain was trembling above him, shuddering with each thrust, until he finally came, his voice rumbling into Abel's neck below his ear. 

Then Cain pulled out and collapsed on top of him, his face still hidden in Abel's shoulder. He wondered what Cain's eyes would be saying now if he could see them. But... maybe he didn't want Abel to see? Several minutes passed before he realized that Cain had fallen asleep. 

 

* * *

They were wakened early in the morning by a red alert, both jumping straight up in the bed, feet almost touching the ground before they woke up enough to realize it was just the phone.

"Answer the phone, slave!"

"It's on your side!"

Cain growled at him and picked it up. "What the fuck do you want?" Cain mumbled, holding his disheveled hair in his hands. Then he sat up a little straighter. "No sir!" he said in the most derisive tone he could muster before he'd had coffee. "You can't throw me in the brig if you're dead, Lieutenant..." He looked over at Abel. "Oh come on, Keeler, lighten up. We're on vacation, it's fuck! o'clock in the morning," Cain had finally looked at the clock. "But our shuttle doesn't leave until.... Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll tell him. Okay. Okay."

Cain fumblingly put the phone back on the receiver. "It's Keeler," was all he said, as he slowly crawled back under the covers. His jeans were still half-on his legs.

"What does he want?" Abel whined with a frog in his throat, hugging his naked self to stretch his back and wake up a little more.

There were two sharp movements under the covers that Abel interpreted as shrugging.

He sat there for a moment, only just remembering the night before.

Then he drug himself out of bed, took another engineered shower, and got dressed.


	7. Chapter 7

 

**Abel**

 

Abel was mostly awake when he got into the elevator to go to Keeler's room. But he was still just asleep enough, that all of the memories from the previous day were echoing in his mind a little too loudly. The battle, the betrayal, his date with Keeler, and then his night with Cain. 

 

* * *

 

 The date with Keeler had gone well enough. They had found a decent Italian place on the station, and ate some fettucini, drank some wine, shared some stories from the Academy... in fact up until a certain point, it had been the best first date that Abel had ever been on. It was pretty uneventful... that was the problem.

The thing that didn't happen, happened when Abel walked Keeler back to his room.

"I had a really good time!" Keeler said, flashing his beautiful smile. They were standing close now, close enough to kiss.

"Yeah, me too." Abel decided to go for it. He put a hand on Keeler's shoulder for balance. Keeler closed his eyes, but then pulled away at the last second.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Oh." Abel flinched backwards.

Keeler just looked at the ground, not saying anything.

"Oh," Abel said like he understood, but he really didn't. "Well, goodnight."

Keeler just silently dismissed him with a slightly wearier version of his usual, very professional looking smile.

 

* * *

 

But boy had Cain made up for it afterwards. Abel knew in his heart that something had been missing. Something that had only manifested itself last night. Sure, it had started out as just fucking, but it had morphed into something else, Abel was certain. Something more like... making love. 

As the elevator opened, Abel glanced around the hallway, as if someone might have heard him think the phrase "making love" in relation to Cain. All he knew was that Cain had never been that way in bed before. 

Perhaps there was some correlation. But if that was the case, Abel decided he wouldn't mind going on dates with Keeler to get Cain to hold him that way every night. 

 

Abel knocked softly on the door. Encke answered, motioning for him to come inside without speaking a word.

Instead, he turned to Keeler, who was sitting on one of the twin beds in his pajamas, hugging his knees. "Okay, Keeler. Let's hear it."

Abel could feel the heat creeping into his face at the sight of Keeler in his pajamas, remembering an earlier incident where he hadn't been so fortunate.

Keeler sighed, staring at the ground.  "I didn't kiss you goodnight, because Cain told me not to. He said we weren't allowed to do anything unless he was there to watch."

Well that was an interesting revelation, in more ways than four... "Oh, well... good! I thought I had just been a horrible date!" Abel chuckled.

"No!" Keeler looked him in the eyes at last. "I had a really good time last night." 

Encke put his hands on his hips in satisfaction. "I think my work here is done. I'm gonna go take a shower."

 

When he was gone, Abel stood there looking at Keeler. Keeler was back to looking at the ground.

Abel had so many questions, but at the same time, _sleeeeeeeep_.

He sat on the bed next to Keeler. "I'm glad that you told me, but... this couldn't have waited a couple hours? It's five in the morning."

"Well, Encke and I get up at five every day. Just habit now."

"Whyyyyy?" The weight of this great injustice pulled Abel's head down to Keeler's shoulder.

"Well maybe that's why we're number one, and you're still number two," Keeler teased, and laughed at Abel half-pretending to fall asleep. Abel opened his eyes and noticed three bottles of prescription pills on Keeler's nightstand, but didn't say anything.

"Encke made me call you," Keeler confessed. "I was pestering him about it all night after you left. He figured you were obligated to answer to my every whim anyway, so, I might as well make you listen to my problems instead."

Abel looked up. "You know, I think the point of having a slave, is that you get them to do things they wouldn't have done otherwise."

"Oh, well I guess I'll have to try harder then." And then Abel saw the other smile. The one he'd only seen one time before. Keeler leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, warm and lingering.

"So... what is thy bidding, my master?" Abel teased, his face still pretty close to Keeler's.

"Hmm..." Keeler pondered. "How about... you bring me breakfast in bed?"

"Now that is more like it!" Abel recovered quickly. He made a mental note to have a talk with Cain about the rules of this game they were playing. But leave it to Cain to cock-block him remotely from another room. "What would you like?"

"Um, waffles. No, pancakes. No! Waffles..." Keeler thought a few seconds more. "Waffles."

"Ha, you sure?" Abel prodded, certain that Keeler wasn't.

"Pancakes _and_ waffles."

"Okay." Abel nodded. "Pancakes and waffles it is."

 

* * *

 

By the time they got to the spaceport to catch their flight, Keeler had worked his way up to ordering Abel to carry his luggage.

They were headed back to meet with the rest of the crew of the Sleipnir, most of whom were spending their leave on a much more civilized planet a couple of systems away.

Cain and Abel stood in the middle of the busy spaceport, watching Keeler sweet-talk the lady at check-in for some devious purpose. Their tickets were free, since they were servicemen, but it usually meant getting leftover seats.

"So, Cain." Abel said somewhat quietly, so only his Fighter could hear.

"Yes, princess?" he answered without taking his eyes off the blond lieutenant.

"You told Keeler he wasn't allowed to kiss me unless _you watched_?" 

"Uh... did you _want_ him to kiss you?"

"That is really beside the point!"

"I don't think it is," Cain entoned a warning.

Abel was whispering so agitatedly he was spitting. "Did you, or did you not make some sort of deal with Keeler, that we would have sex, and you would watch?"

Cain had apparently found something very interesting among the beams in the ceiling. "Uh... I may have, yes--But that's really only relevant if you _wanted_ to fuck Keeler."

Abel refused to be put in a corner on that particular point. "How could you _do_ something like that!" 

"Hey. You lost a bet. I made a deal with Keeler to win the bet. Those are the rules. No fooling around with Keeler unless I get to watch."

Wording it that way kind of sounded like he was giving permission. Who had really lost here? "But... who's even saying that I'd want to?"

Cain looked at him sideways, obviously not fooled. "Even Keeler wants to fuck Keeler, hot stuff. Hell, I'd help you if I thought--"

"Cain!" Abel gave Cain his best _'shut up before I rip off your clothes and do you right here'_ eyes.

Cain just chuckled victoriously, then both of them fell silent.

 

Keeler came over a few minutes later, with tickets in hand. "I got us seats next to each other!"

Cain held out his hand, scoffing. "Let me guess, you put me in the cargo bay, huh?"

"Nope! You get the aisle, and I get the window."

Cain and Abel exchanged shocked expressions. Keeler seemed not to notice. "I have to go pass out the rest of these to the others."

When he was out of earshot, Cain grumbled, "That one could talk his way out of a firing squad."

Abel just looked at his ticket longingly, as if it could reveal to him the meaning of this grave omen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: "Take" by the Pack A.D.

**Abel**

 

 

Abel was caught sitting between Cain and Keeler on the shuttle. The other side of the aisle was empty. Praxis and Deimos were supposed to be sitting there, but were conspicuously absent. A few rows back in the cabin, he could hear some of their other companions: there was Encke's confident laugh, warm with whatever cheap alcohol the flight attendants had been passing out.... and there was Ethos's sweet voice, and Phobos... being Phobos.

The cabin was dark now, to allow the travelers to try and get some sleep during the long flight. Abel couldn't sleep though. He was too nervous thinking about Cain and Keeler. 

 _Nothing will change_ , Cain had said, _You're already mine._

Abel was pretending to read a book on his tablet, but he kept stealing glances at the other two men. On Abel's left, Cain was relaxing with his head back against the seat, his eyes closed, earbuds in his ears. He had his legs apart so that he was in Abel's space, causing them to occasionally bump knees -- lest Abel forget he were there otherwise. But he wouldn't, not with his body aching so satisfyingly from the night before. Not with all the things Cain had said to him in the dark, and his own cries of pleasure, echoing in his mind like his skull were made of ceramic tile.

On the other side, Keeler had a complimentary blanket wrapped around his legs and he was resting his head awkwardly against a pillow. He looked too uncomfortable to be asleep. Abel gently put a hand on Keeler's shoulder, to test if he was awake. Keeler didn't stir, so he lightly squeezed with his thumb. Wincing, Keeler finally opened his eyes. 

"You can put your head in my lap... if you want to sleep." Abel whispered. 

Keeler's smile was bright, even in the dark. He put his pillow carefully over Abel's right leg and laid down. "Thanks," he whispered over his shoulder.

Then Abel went back to his book, but a little while later, he was still on the same page. 

Fifty percent. But somehow the math seemed a lot more complicated than that.

Abel looked down at Keeler again, letting his eyes readjust to the dark. He was... beautiful. And he wanted Abel.

_I think you're really great too. Can we just, pause the conversation there for, like, five minutes?_

Abel had wondered what would have happened in those five minutes ever since. He didn't want to wonder anymore. He reached down and lightly put his hand on Keeler's side. So warm, and soft. Not wanting to wake him up again, Abel just gently ran his hand over Keeler's waist, back and forth, hypnotizing himself with the repetitive motions and all the things that had happened with Keeler over the past few days. 

Then Keeler shifted underneath him, so Abel quickly moved his hand away, only to have it snatched back. He jumped slightly, then realized that Keeler was lacing their fingers together, just like before. 

Abel's startled movement had gotten Cain's attention, and he shot up. He looked over at Keeler in Abel's lap, with eyes like daggers.  Keeler just looked undauntedly back at Cain, pulling the pillow away and pressing his mouth on Abel's thigh, as if to say, _this is my leg, you have your own._ Cain fell back into his chair in a huff. 

Keeler continued kissing and gently massaging Abel's leg, working his way up to the growing bulge in the middle. Abel ran his fingers through Keeler's hair, not really sure what to with Cain right there next to him. Then Cain put his hand on Abel's other thigh and started lightly scratching at him with his fingernails, and then massaging his kneecap. Abel wasn't really sure if Cain was giving him permission or just claiming territory. He chose to interpret it as the former. He grabbed Keeler with both hands, murmured, "C'mere," and pulled him up to kiss. 

Surprisingly, Abel found that he was kissing Keeler a lot like the way that Cain kissed him: hungrily and with lots of teeth. They had been together long enough that Cain's kissing vocabulary had become his own, much like he found himself occasionally swearing in Russian.  As if to tell him this, he reached a hand over to Cain's thigh.

Keeler pulled the blanket up and draped it over _all three_ of their laps.

Cain grabbed Abel's hand and pressed it to his crotch, and Abel wondered at how hard he already was. Was Cain turned on by watching Keeler touch him? Had he been sitting there the whole time thinking about what would happen when they were finally alone, just like Abel had? Abel tried to juggle all these thoughts in his head while stroking the inside of Keeler's thigh, and rubbing his palm along the outline of Cain's hard-on.

Cain scooted closer to Abel so they were shoulder to shoulder. He was holding on with one hand in Abel's hair, while unbuttoning his own jeans with the other under the blanket. Abel put his arm around Keeler to bring him closer, too. 

Cain had gotten his cock free and Abel found himself doing the best kind of multitasking -- he mused to himself -- pumping Cain's cock the way that he knew Cain liked, while simultaneously having to learn to kiss someone new. While simultaneously glancing sideways at the aisle to make sure no one saw them. While simultaneously fighting the urge to moan so loud that everybody turned their head to look.

He firmly nibbled on Keeler's lip, overwhelmed with arousal at the fact that Keeler was responding, melting into everything he was doing and almost moaning into his mouth. Abel pulled back, silently gasping, looking intensely into Keeler's eyes, torn between wanting to provoke louder noises and not wanting to get caught. But then he looked over and saw that Cain had leaned forward to watch them.

A jolt of arousal shot through Abel's core like lightning. He was so hard, his cock straining under his clothes, but he _had_ lost a bet, after all. Not breaking eye contact with Cain, he worked at him slowly and teasingly under the blanket. He starting playing with the slick head of Cain's cock with his thumb, mimicking things he usually did with his tongue. Then he ran his other hand down Keeler's body, first touching his face, then his shoulder, then diagonally down his back, and down his thigh. Abel was still looking at Cain as he palmed at Keeler's erection and then started tugging at the button of his pants, signaling for Keeler to undo them. With Cain's raised eyebrows, his lips slightly parted, it was clear he was divided between arousal and jealousy. He couldn't really see in the dark, but Abel thought Cain might have been blushing.

Keeler pulled Abel's hand up to his mouth, kissing and ~~~~sucking suggestively on one finger. Abel looked up at him and Keeler made a promise with his eyes. Paralyzed with a score of obscene thoughts, Abel swallowed before he gathered the strength just to move his hand down to stroke Keeler. Abel sat back in his chair, looking straight ahead, finally finding symmetry as he pleasured both Cain and Keeler under the blanket, their warmth feeling so good in his hands. A shoulder trapped him in on either side. Keeler leaned his head back, his eyes closed, giving in to it. Cain had buried his face in Abel's shoulder, lightly biting at him through his shirt.

At some point, Cain must have taken his earbuds out of his ears, as they were askew on top of the blanket. All that was audible from so far away was the tinny beat of a snare drum, and a woman singing, her voice distorted into the moan of a siren. Abel tried to distract himself from his own arousal by wondering what kind of music Cain actually liked. They never really talked about things like that.

Cain must have sensed Abel was distracted, because he grabbed Abel and kissed him deep, shoving his tongue profanely into Abel's mouth. But then Cain bucked his hips and Abel realized that Cain was coming, and trying so hard not to make noise: muffling himself with Abel's lips, but not able to stop himself from silently mouthing his usual "Oh fuck," as he put a hand over Abel's on his cock and came into both of their hands.

Abel pumped Keeler's cock a little firmer as if to say, _I haven't forgotten you_ , but he was still pressing his nose into Cain's cheek, their eyes locked, not wanting the moment between them to end just yet. Trying to make up for the moment they could have had that morning when they woke up in each others' arms. Stealing a trick from Keeler, he brought Cain's hand up to study it in the low light, found some cum glistening on one finger and took it into his mouth. Sucking it clean in a way that was so dirty. Cain gave Abel a familiar _I-want-to-fuck-you-so-bad-even-though-I-just-came_ face, so he just silently dared Cain to do so with his eyes and then turned his attention to the blond on his right.

Keeler gave him a proud smirk and bit his lip, before throwing his head back against the chair to lose himself in Abel's undivided attention. Cain leaned over and started to undo Abel's pants. _Finally_. As he pleasured him, he buried his nose in Keeler's long, soft hair, smelling and nuzzling him. Stroking Keeler more like he would touch himself, instead of the way he touched Cain. He was thrusting up at Abel's hand now, clearly close. But then Keeler looked sideways at Abel, mouthing his name pleadingly, like he needed something else, something more to send him over the edge. Being so close himself, with Cain now jerking him off so relentlessly, all Abel could think to do was lean in to bite at Keeler's ear and whisper, "I want you so bad..."

And it worked -- Keeler basically fucking Abel's hand as he came, arching his back, his mouth open and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Silent, but telling Abel everything he needed to know. As he came down from it, he bit his lip again, and then rested his head on Abel's shoulder.

Abel was already so close, with Cain's familiar hand on his cock, and Keeler lazily massaging his leg. But then suddenly Cain leaned over further and pulled at the collar of Abel's t-shirt with his teeth. Then he ducked under the blanket, taking Abel in his mouth. It was all he could do to keep from crying out. Cain knowingly threw a hand out of the blanket and over Abel's mouth to help him keep quiet -- and then Abel was flashing back to a blinding blue sky, and hiding in the shadows, and Keeler in a black bandana, and Cain's bad-ass pose on the wall, and the deal that they'd made, and Keeler's promising eyes, and Cain's _I'm going to fuck you_ face...

And then as though he were reading Abel's mind, Cain glared up at him wickedly under the blanket, as if to say he could suck on something much bigger than a finger -- and then Abel was coming, hard, fucking Cain's mouth so that Cain had to hold him down, and Cain swallowed it all, with a look that promised to take in all that Abel was if Abel would give it to him.

It wasn't until Abel came down from it somewhat that he realized he and Keeler were holding hands.

 

A little while later, when Deimos and Praxis finally came back to their seats, stumbling over each other with weak knees, the three of them were sitting there like nothing had happened. ~~  
~~

Something came back to Abel's mind, and he shifted to look over at Cain, who had put his earbuds back in. Cain lazily opened his eyes, cocking an eyebrow to see what Abel wanted. Smiling shyly, Abel slowly reached across and took the earbud out of Cain's left ear. Cain furrowed his brow but didn't make any protest.

Abel sat there listening to Cain's music for the rest of the flight, learning more about him that way than he ever had, and holding Keeler's hand as he reclined on Abel's shoulder, looking out the window.


	9. Chapter 9

**Abel**

 

“No, princess, I'm too tired to fuck,” Cain whined, as he collapsed face-first on the hotel room bed. After thinking about fooling around with Keeler on the shuttle, and then _actually_ fooling around with Keeler on the shuttle, neither of them had gotten any sleep. Abel was running on fumes, thanks to his five o'clock wake-up call the day before. Silver morning light was just rising over the city skyline as they were laying down to get some much-needed rest. Or, falling down really.

Abel lay there under the covers, squinting his eyes in exhausted confusion. “I didn't even say that I wanted to,” he argued softly.

“Tch. Don't even. I know that look,” Cain chided, his face still buried in the thick comforter.

“Hmph, whatever.” Abel was too tired to think of a witty rebuke, so he just pulled the covers up more and snickered to himself underneath.

Cain dragged himself up toward the head of the bed, grabbing up covers and pillows as he went, and then slid over to Abel so that they were nose to nose. “Princess, I said no. I'm too tired,” he scolded.

“I didn't do _anything_ , I didn't _say_ anythi-- mmMMmm!”

And then Cain was kissing him, deep and warm, reaching around and squeezing a handful of ass through Abel's boxers, pulling him closer and making him breathless. Cain broke away and kissed his collarbone, making his way over to suck Abel's neck. “Baby...”

“Hmm?” Abel leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He slowly grinded into the thigh that had found its way in between his legs.

Cain kissed him in between words. “You've got -- to stop -- kissing me -- I'm trying -- to _sleep_.”

“Cain, you're the one kissing _me_!” Abel giggled at him incredulously.

“Oh -- Oh yeah,” Cain mumbled, and then threw his head back down with a thump, burying his face in Abel's shoulder.

But then Abel was wide awake, his eyes refusing to shut now, already at half mast from Cain's whirlwind of groping. He just lay there watching Cain, hoping that he would start up again. But there was nothing but quiet breathing.

Abel pressed his lips together guiltily, trying to decide what to do. Then he timidly patted at Cain's hair with his hand. “Cain?” he asked quietly.

Cain immediately opened his eyes and sprung back into action again, kissing Abel fast and hard, before pinning him down on his stomach. “Seriously, are you never satisfied? Why can't you just leave me in peace!”

He chuckled quietly as he pulled the boxers off of Abel's ass and grazed his teeth over one cheek. Abel looked around at Cain and wagged his hips back and forth, silently teasing.

 

* * *

 

The sun burned high in the sky now, and Abel had just finished getting dressed. He began to worry they would lose another day of their vacation without having any fun. Cain was making a lot of commotion on the floor, emptying out his backpack and rearranging the contents into his suitcase. Abel tilted his head as he stood there watching.

Cain looked up at him for a moment, before returning to his task. “You with Keeler today?”

“No, I don't really have any plans. What were you gonna do today?” Abel asked hopefully.

Cain halted abruptly, seemingly caught off guard by the question. “I, uh, was going to do some... shopping,” he said quietly.

“Oh! Well... do you need help with that?” Abel offered.

Cain shrugged. “Not really. You can go do something else if you want.”

“No! I'd like to go with you. I mean, if you want me to.”

Cain finished emptying the bag and stood up, swinging it over his shoulder. He looked Abel up and down with a long, discerning glare. Then he just shrugged again. “Alright, come on,” he acquiesced and beckoned Abel with a sharp turn of his head.

 

To Abel's surprise, Cain started heading back towards the spaceport when they got out into the city. “I thought you said you were going shopping.”

“I am. Up there,” Cain answered and pointed to the planet's moon, which was hovering above the skyscrapers. “It's only an hour away.”

“Oh. Okay.” Abel shrugged away his expectations. It would be nice to spend time with Cain, no matter what they were doing.

“You still want to go?” Cain prodded sharply with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. It's fine.” Abel looked back up at the moon with wide eyes, wondering what kind of adventure he was getting himself into.

 

Upon landing on the moon, Abel immediately noticed a distinct difference in atmosphere that had nothing to do with oxygen. Everything on the planet below was so shiny and pristine, and things here just seemed old, and outdated, and covered in a layer of grime. As they walked through the busy spaceport, Cain stopped abruptly, and looked at Abel with serious eyes.

“Hey. No wandering off, okay? You stay close.”

Abel just nodded silently in agreement, not really sure what Cain was on about.

Cain held the empty backpack over one shoulder as they wandered through the gray streets. Abel was overwhelmed by how busy and loud and dirty and overcrowded it was. He craned his head around, trying to take it all in, and noticed quickly that he was one of the few blond-headed people in sight.

But mostly, what impressed upon him were the smells. There was garbage, and incense... soot, and spices, and sewage. A quite pungent bouquet of life and death itself.

Cain didn't take his free hand off of Abel the whole time, either just resting it on his back, or gently holding him by the elbow, as they made their way through the crowds. Abel enjoyed it; it was so unlike Cain to be touchy-feely like this, but he was a bit annoyed by it as well. It seemed like Cain was just acting clingy and controlling, tugging Abel back to him if he got even a few steps away.

They meandered for a while, into a district full of shops and street vendors, selling everything from vegetables to exotic pets, to ancient video games. Cain stopped and scanned with hawk eyes through the market.

“What are we looking for exactly?” Abel asked shyly, almost forgetting that Cain was familiar amidst all the unfamiliarity.

“Ah! There!” Cain pointed at a sign in Russian and grabbed Abel's hand, pulling him along behind him. As they drew closer, Abel noticed a smaller sign below it in English that said 'Smoke Shop'.

It wasn't a shop, really, it was just a window in the wall made of bulletproof glass, and covered in black steel bars. There was a hole for customers to say their order through, and then the transaction would take place through a metal drawer underneath. Cain got in the back of the line.

“Got to stock up before we go back to the ship,” Cain explained.

“You brought us all the way out here for cigarettes?” Abel asked, a little irritated and disappointed.

Cain just chuckled at that. He got his wallet out, thumbing through bills, then pensively took out about half of them. He brought the backpack off of his shoulders, opening it up and studying the capacity. His eyes darted back and forth between the prices on the window, and counting his money, and eyeing the space in his bag. Clearly this was some science Abel hadn't known existed.

Cain noticed Abel was still watching him with unease, and he explained. "You have to come to a place like this to get the really good stuff. And you can usually buy in bulk. I'll sell about half of it to fools who spent their time on leave getting wasted. I'll make a bit of extra cash, and then come back and do it all over again next time."

"Great, so what you're saying is, you're a dealer." Abel summarized, voice heavy with disapproval.

"Pretty much. If you want to word it that way, yeah."

"And how would  _you_ word it?"

Cain shrugged. "Business."

When it was Cain's turn, he walked up to the window, giving his order in Russian.  Not being a smoker, Abel was a bit bored by the whole thing. He turned around and noticed a kiosk nearby, selling very old, analog watches: the kind people used back when time zones were limited to just Earth. He wandered over to check it out, appreciating the mechanisms and the condition to which they'd been restored. He couldn't believe most of them were still working.

"Nyet, nyet!" He heard Cain say agitatedly into the window. Abel was thinking about buying a particular watch, but he couldn't communicate with the vendor enough to ask how much something was, or understand the answer.

He was deep in thought about it -- when suddenly, a strong hand clapped on his shoulder. Abel yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin. Before he could even react, he was spun around roughly. But then he saw the blue bangs that told him it was just Cain.

“What did I tell you, huh? Didn't I tell you to stay close?” Cain's jaw was jutting out of his face in an expression divided between annoyance and concern. He was stuffing his backpack with the last carton of cigarettes and a couple of brown paper bags.

“Cain, I was like, ten feet away. I'm not a child, you don't have to babysit me.”

Cain clicked his tongue and pulled Abel away from the kiosk. He glanced around with suspicion, before looking back at Abel with heartbreaking eyes. He spoke in a low voice. “Abel, I'm not bossing you around for the fuck of it, okay? I'm trying to protect you.”

Abel's annoyance melted away. He knew those eyes, he'd seen them that day in the mess hall, the day they'd made the bet.

“You wanted to come with me,” Cain continued. "And that's fine. But you've got to understand what it's like here.” Cain looked around his shoulder to a very large, very tattooed man that Abel hadn't even noticed was watching him across the crowd. Cain lowered his voice even more. “Pretty little blonds like you sometimes _disappear_ from places like this.”

“Disappear?!” Abel whispered.

“Now, I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you. But you've _got_ to stick with me, okay? You've _got_ to stay close.” Cain had his hands on Abel's shoulders. He was almost shaking Abel to emphasize his words.

“What do you mean, disappear? What happens to them?” Abel demanded.

Cain gave Abel a look that told him he didn't want to know. "We should get out of here."

"No, wait." Abel gestured toward the watches, pulling at Cain's sleeve. He pointed at the one he wanted. "Will you ask him how much this is?" 

"What, this piece of junk?!" Cain snorted and rolled his eyes, clearly still in a hurry to leave. 

"I like it. It's an antique. And it's not junk, it still works!" 

"Seriously, Abel." Cain grabbed his hand, their fingers interlocking this time, and guided him away hastily. “Apparently I also have to protect your wallet. Those are counterfeit."

"What?!"

"Come on, let's go.”

Cain walked briskly down the sidewalk, almost pushing people out of the way. As they came to an intersection, waiting to cross the busy street, Cain looked over at him worriedly. He leaned over, just barely pressing his nose into Abel's hair, all the while still holding his hand. “You're safe with me, okay? I wouldn't have brought you here, if I couldn't keep you safe.”

“Why didn't you say something before?” Abel whispered, still trying to process everything Cain had said.

“I didn't want to scare you. If you looked scared..." Cain turned his head, making it hard to hear over the traffic. "...that would only have made it worse.”

Maybe Cain was right. Maybe he didn't want to know. Though he was pretty sure he already did.

 

They walked to a -- relatively -- nicer part of the city then, a neighborhood full of small, humble houses and and a park. Cain stopped there and sat on a bench, digging through his haul, and pulling out a lighter.

“So...” Abel timidly pried as Cain lit a cigarette, “Are you _from here_?”

Cain shook his head, just looking out among the trees, then added, “Might as well be. Same place, different sky.”

“What was the deal with that guy? Why was he looking at us?”

“Those tattoos? He is Bratva. It is... mafia. A gang.”

“Is it just me, or is your accent getting thicker just by being here?”

Cain laughed heartily. “S'possible.” He suddenly turned and smiled widely at Abel. “Hey, you know what we should do while we're here?”

“...What?” Abel laughed nervously. What trouble was Cain going to get them into now?

“We should go get you some real borscht. How does that sound?”

“I do like borscht.” Abel conceded, happy for a normal activity to have made it onto the itinerary.

 “Tch, sweetheart, you've never had borscht. But we'll fix that.”

 

They found a homey-looking cafe not far from there, and Abel could tell by the aroma that lingered outside, that he was going to like the food. It seemed like the kind of place where you seated yourself, so they found a table for two by the window.

Pretty soon, a woman cheerily came over to take their order. She had aged gracefully, and had beautiful, wavy black hair that cascaded off her shoulders, with red streaks going through her bangs. She was dressed a little more stylishly than most of the people he'd seen. Abel assumed she was the owner.

"Uh...  _Vy ponimayetse pa angliyskiy_?" Cain asked the woman. Abel recognized it as 'Do you understand English?', a phrase Cain had taught him.

"Da. I speak it pretty well." The woman shrugged, directing a friendly smirk at Abel. 

"Okay." Cain leaned in to the table, a bit more engaged in the conversation, like he was about to reveal a genius and dastardly scheme. "My uh,  _molodoy chelovek_ here has never had real borscht. You make borscht?”

“Honey, I make the best borscht this side of Orion's belt," the woman asserted with a hand on her hip. "I bring you some?"

Abel decided against explaining that being on one side of Orion's belt or the other would actually be quite difficult.

“Two bowls, please,” Cain told her.

"You got it." She smiled and walked back into the kitchen. 

Abel had so many questions, he just couldn't hold back anymore. “So, were you in a gang?”

Cain looked taken aback at first, then just resignedly shook his head. “No, I was smart enough, at least, to get the fuck out.”

"Well if it's so horrible in places like this, then why come back? Why go through all the trouble?"

“Hey, it's not all bad," Cain answered, almost pouting about it. He looked out the window then, his thoughts suddenly seeming very far away. "And anyway... it's nice to be reminded of the reasons why you fight, 'uh?” 

That took Abel completely by surprise. _Same place, different sky._ Cain must have been thinking of home.

Cain looked back and saw Abel's face. “What?”

“Oh, nothing! ...I guess I just assumed that being a Fighter was just a job to you.”

“Nah, I would have made more money if I'd stayed home and joined the Bratva.” Cain looked back out the window, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Then he chuckled. “Besides, gangs don't usually, uh, _consist_ of fifty percent hot blonds, eh?”

“Cain...” Abel rolled his eyes. He could feel himself start to blush, so he blushed even redder.

“But if there was a gang like that, I'd totally have joined it. Fuck the Alliance.”

“Cain!” But Abel couldn't help but laugh with him.

The woman brought their borscht, along with some glasses of tea and a basket of freshly baked bread. "You boys in the Alliance?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," Abel answered proudly, secretly hoping it wasn't an answer that would summon the mafia out of the walls.

"That's good. Good for you. A Fighter and his Navigator, eh?" She directed the question at Cain. She seemed to be ribbing Cain about something, but just what, Abel wasn't sure.

Cain just nodded enthusiastically, his mouth already overfull with bread. 

"You two better take care of each other out there. You're both too good looking to get eaten by Colterons. Especially you, little one." She winked at Abel.

As they ate, Abel noticed that Cain seemed a bit lost in his thoughts. Or maybe he was just enjoying the excellent food. When they finished, Cain stood and went over to the counter by the kitchen to settle the bill. He and the woman started talking in hushed voices, and occasionally looking suspiciously in Abel's direction. 

Abel felt a twinge of anxiety. Was something wrong? Was he not welcome here after all?

But Cain didn't indicate anything was amiss when he came back to the table. “There's one more thing I need to take care of while we're here.”

“Okay, where to next?” Abel started to get up out of his chair -- suddenly really ready to leave -- but Cain stopped him.

“Um, you'd better stay here actually.”

“What? No, I want to come with you.” Abel studied Cain carefully. It was clear he had made up his mind.

“Mmm, no... you stay here. Magda said it was okay if you hung out for a bit. She likes you. I won't be gone long.”

"Madga?"

"Yeah. She'll take care of you. Don't worry. Watch the stuff. I'll be back."

Abel was more than a little annoyed to be left alone in a strange place. But he had to admit, that he'd invited himself along on Cain's little expedition. Maybe Cain hadn't wanted him to come at all. Or maybe there were things that were just too personal, that he wasn't ready to share with Abel. Or, the more likely scenario, that Cain was up to absolutely no good.

Abel hadn't brought anything to do; it hadn't occurred to him to bring a book or anything, so he just passed the time by observing the people in the restaurant. Magda was on her feet pretty much all the time, fluttering like a butterfly from table to table and then back into the kitchen. She had a couple of helpers, one waiting tables and one stirring pots and washing dishes. But Magda was essentially a one-woman show. She even made time to chat with her customers, and it was clear they all loved her, and were probably regulars. 

Abel started to understand what Cain had meant. It was nice to be reminded of the reason why they fought. All of the risks they had taken, the friends they had lost... It was for these people, Magda and her customers, who would have been some of the first ones in danger if the blockade had been broken.

Eventually, Madga came over to Abel with a slice of cake. "Here, this is on me."

"Oh, well that's very kind of you," Abel said graciously.

"Well your boyfriend asked me to look after you. And my first order of business, is that you're too skinny. So eat up." 

"My what?" It took Abel a second to catch what she'd said. Also, first order of business? Just how long was Cain going to be gone?!

"Your boyfriend, that's what he called you, yeah?" Madga insisted. " _Molodoy chelovek_? Or did I misunderstand?"

Abel was speechless. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "Well... I guess we sort of are --"

Magda gave him a knowing smile and then a wink. "Oh, I see. Just a Fighter and his Navigator, eh? Don't worry, little one, your secret's safe with me."

 

* * *

 

 

Abel waited for the good part of an hour for Cain to come back. He returned empty handed, but seemed to be in an even brighter mood than he'd been before.

They said goodbye to Magda, who tried to send them off with more free food, and then headed back towards the spaceport. Cain stopped again right before they walked inside, and got out his wallet.

"Is everything okay?" Abel asked with a furrowed brow. He looked over and noticed that Cain's wallet only had one bill left in it now, and he was taking it out.

"Yep. Everything is perfect." Cain said softly, more to himself than to Abel. He took the paper bill, folded it in half, and put it in his back right pocket. He fidgeted for a minute, trying to put his wallet in the left back pocket, as if there was something already in there.

"What are you doing now?" Abel asked shortly.

"You'll see." Cain answered, clearly unphased, and then gestured that he was ready to go inside.

When they got to the security gate, Cain just strutted right through with his bag, immediately setting off the alarms, of course. 

Abel's heart just about stopped beating in his chest, as he watched the security guard walk over to Cain. He held his breath, trying to think if he could remember the number of his father's lawyer. 

Cain just shifted his weight to one hip and said casually, "I don't have a bag."

The guard's eyes shifted, then he leaned over and acted like he was patting Cain down. But instead he just reached into Cain's back pocket, pulling out the paper bill. Then he unceremoniously squeezed Cain's ass and let him through.

Abel's mouth dropped to the floor. He was so stunned, that someone had to yell at him to go through the gate himself.

 

"Did he just --  you... what... " Abel was still incoherent when he caught up to Cain.

"Oh, that's the thing that makes you speechless, after everything you've seen today? Someone else feeling me up?" Cain teased.

"I... you..."  Abel was taking long strides to keep up with Cain as he hurried toward the terminal. Was Cain seriously not upset about it?

"Well now you know how it feels, sweetheart."

And Abel knew precisely what Cain was on about now. "Oh, you know perfectly well you _liked_ watching me with Keeler."

"Ha! I think you liked watching _me_ , watch _you_ with Keeler."

Abel stopped in his tracks, paralyzed just by the memory of it, but still trying to think of a retort. Cain took a few more steps before realizing Abel wasn't following.

He slowly walked up to Cain, staring him down with dead serious eyes. They just stood in silence for a moment.  "Do you think Keeler--"

"Yeah." Cain answered immediately, nodding with the same gravity. "I think he likes watching you, watch me, watch you, watch... Oh fuck it." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the unplanned sequel, Cain and Abel move to this moon and settle down, and Magda becomes Cain's adoptive mommy. Cain helps her run her restaurant. Then one day Abel gets kidnapped by the Russian space mafia. Cain decides to go on a killing spree to get him back. Madga reveals that she was once a female fighter and unveils to Cain her secret stash of bad-ass guns. Cain kicks ass and takes names and they all live happily ever after. <3


	10. Chapter 10

 

**Cain**

 

Cain was no certainly no stranger to sexual adventure. He had done lots of things before, had lots of experiences which he didn't mention to Abel. Not because he thought Abel wouldn't approve, or couldn't handle it, but because secretly, there was a part of Cain that liked how innocent Abel was. He liked the way that his Navigator looked into his eyes, as if they were windows to a sky full of explorable stars, instead of just some black abyss.

But there was nothing that could have prepared Cain for the reaction that he would have, when Abel climbed on top of him, and leaned down to kiss him -- and Cain tasted something salty in Abel's mouth and suddenly realized it wasn't from him.

Maybe Abel had meant to share the taste with Cain, or maybe he had just wanted to kiss him, without giving thought to what he had just been doing. But something ignited inside of the Fighter, and he growled and snarled ravenously into Abel's mouth, grinding, almost convulsing into the naked form above him. Just to show Abel how hard it made him, how it turned him on even as it made him jealous –- but it was more of a confession than a commandment. If he hadn't been quite so unhinged by it, Cain would have flipped Abel over onto the bed, and fucked him so hard that Abel forgot Keeler was even in the room... forgot that Keeler even _existed_. 

And there was really nothing that could have prepared Cain, for being straddled like a seesaw by the two hottest blonds on the Sleipnir, with Abel riding him, and Keeler making out with Abel with his ass practically in Cain's face. Just because he could, Cain massaged and squeezed in appreciation. When that was met with humming approval, he pulled Keeler backwards by the hips so fast that he yelped, and then spread him open and shoved a tongue inside, and just started making out with Keeler's ass.

 

Cain was amused with himself, remembering back to just a few minutes before... when he and Keeler had stood staring at each other, with Abel on his knees in between them. Then Keeler had suddenly grabbed Cain's shirt and pulled him close -- the smallest space in between their open mouths, like two magnets pushing with invisible resistance. But then they finally had to surrender to the force pushing them together, letting their tongues do the fighting instead of their eyes.

 

"Ohhhhhhhh!!" Keeler cried out and moved backwards to let Cain into him deeper, jerking him back into the present. Cain growled from low in his throat, straight into Keeler's ass, wondering if it had the same effect as when you did it with your mouth wrapped around someone's cock. 

Abel wasn't being as loud as he usually was in bed, perhaps a little shy with an audience. Cain didn't like that, so he thrust up at him sharply a few times just to encourage him to make more noise.

"Aaaahhh, aahh, Cain!" Abel cried out and moved himself faster into Cain's thrusts.

And Cain liked that a whole lot better: Abel saying his name, so he resolved to make the other blond say it too. Cain reached for some conveniently placed lube, and started firmly working his fingers into Keeler with the same relentless pace that he was fucking Abel, so close now --

"So close, baby," Cain just barely managed to articulate in his addled state --

But while Keeler made a lot of noise about it, he was too focused on Abel to grant Cain his silent wish. But eventually Cain pushed in his fingers just right, and Keeler cried out and startled at the movement, digging his fingernails into Cain's skin so hard that it hurt, and sent him over the edge with a cry of pain. "Ohhhh, Fuck!!!!" Cain threw his head back and gripped onto Keeler's legs as he came inside of Abel. 

 

Stupefied for a few seconds, Cain lifted up his head just in time to see Keeler move off of him and lean in to kiss Abel again -- but it was a feint. He pulled away at the last second with seducing eyes, drawing Abel's attention away with a gaze as potent as demonic magic. Cain could only shake his head in astonishment, as Abel followed after, to where Keeler laid on his back on the other side of the bed.

He propped up on one elbow and watched lazily, as the two blonds kissed, tangled up in each other affectionately but also a little desperately. There was something different about the way Abel was with Keeler, that Cain couldn't quite put his finger on. It was like some optical illusion, one that he could only ever see out of the corner of his eye.

Keeler wrapped his surprisingly flexible legs around Abel's hips, opening up and welcoming him inside. Cain snickered to himself at the look of almost helpless amazement on Abel's face, as he slid fairly easily into Keeler for the first time. Cain kept all of his comments to himself though –- about how it was Abel's first fuck, and how he had fantasized about this very thing, and 'you're welcome' for getting Keeler ready.

When Abel was all the way inside, Keeler lifted his ass up, and wrapped his feet behind Abel's neck. 

Abel groaned with pleasure. He grabbed onto Keeler's thighs and then started moving into him, closing his eyes and gasping silently. Having decided that his eyes were _not_ going to pop out of his head, Cain fought through his sex-ridden haze to think of something to do to help -- 

Of course!  How could he have forgotten?

Cain peeled himself off of the bed and moved over to them, sliding a hand up Keeler's leg as Abel watched, still moving with uneven thrusts. Then Cain got on his knees behind Abel and grabbed one of Keeler's feet, scraping his tongue across the crevice of his toes and grazing teeth on the fleshy part underneath. Keeler let out a loud moan, and Abel got slightly jostled around in front of him.

Cain chuckled. "Oh, by the way," he hummed, pressing his mouth onto Abel's spine, "Keeler has a thing with his feet."

"How -- nnghuh -- how do you know that?!" Abel's thrusting slowed for a moment as he craned his head to look at Cain. 

"You're welcome, now grab a foot and help me," Cain chided before going back to making out with Keeler's foot. 

"OH!" The noises that Keeler made now were divine; his leg was shaking slightly so that Cain had to hold it still, massaging at the arch with his thumb and sucking on toes. He looked over and saw Keeler grabbing onto pillows and sheets, pushing back into Abel's thrusts, which were steadier now that he had a foot in his mouth to distract him.

"Oh my God -- Oh my G-AAAHH!" And Keeler exploded, covering his stomach in frosting like a sweet, sexy pastry. A sweet, sexy, possibly demonic pastry.

Cain leaned more into Abel's back, moving with him and sliding his hands around to run his fingers over Abel's nipples. And that was all it took, Abel leaning his head back against Cain's shoulder, and shuddering and groaning and picking up speed as he came hard inside of Keeler. Cain held him after, and let Abel rest against his shoulder as he came back to his senses.

 

 

Abel was the last one to use the shower and get ready for bed, and Cain waited up for him. When he came out, Cain motioned him over to his side of the bed, and Abel crawled into his lap. Cain couldn't say all the things he wanted to, because Keeler was laying down just a few feet away, eyes pleasantly half closed. So Cain just held Abel tight and kissed him, soft and undemanding. He wanted to celebrate the accomplishments of the night with Abel, he wanted to congratulate him, because he _was_   kind of proud.... and he wanted to tell Abel how he felt about him, even though he wasn't really sure he could have found the words, if he thought the moment had been right. So much had happened over the past week, and though they would be returning to the ship the next day, Cain knew that things wouldn't be the same. He had told Abel that nothing would change if he won the bet, but he had been so wrong.

Cain looked over to see if Keeler was still awake. And for the first time in, well, ever, Keeler didn't look like he hated him. It looked like Keeler liked what he saw.

 

 

* * *

 

Cain woke up in the morning to hushed whispers, and the almost imperceptible movement of the bed.  He opened his eyes to see Keeler naked on top of Abel. He blinked a few times -- and no, that wasn't it at all -- it was Keeler straddling Abel, moving slow like a rolling wave. They were kissing, and each had the others' cocks in their hand, just moving together slowly, getting each other off. Abel was propped up on one elbow to reach Keeler's lips, looking intensely at the other blond like if he looked away, Keeler might not be there when he looked back.

It was a beautiful sight. Laying there on his side, just getting to watch them again, Cain was definitely waking up in more ways than one -- but there was something else. Something squeezing at his heart, making it hard to breathe. Half of him wondered if he could get away with moving his hand down to stroke himself, but he couldn't move. He was paralyzed by the realization. Abel was different.  Moving different, touching different, kissing different, looking at Keeler differently than he looked at Cain. 

Their hands were clasped now, holding their cocks together in the middle, still moving slow because they didn't know yet that Cain was awake. Abel sat up slightly more, ran his hand along an old scar that ran the length of Keeler's sternum, and then grabbed a fistful of disheveled platinum hair. And Cain knew then, that he was looking at a version of Abel that didn't belong to him, that would  _never_  belong to him. It was only something he would see out of the corner of his eye. Like the sexiest, most beautiful goddamn optical illusion ever conceived by the mind of man. 

 

It wasn't until after they both finished that Abel looked over and saw that Cain's eyes were open. His face flushed crimson, and they just looked at each other for a few of Cain's very loud heartbeats. Keeler moved off of him, and Abel started shifting over to Cain. But he had already transformed; back into  _ _his__  Abel, the Abel that blushed and worried at his scarred lip, the Abel that felt like he needed to apologize somehow for what he'd just been doing, the Abel that just wanted everybody to be happy.

Cain closed his eyes, let Abel kiss him, and kissed him back deep. But Cain knew he couldn't have what he wanted. In that moment, he wanted the Abel that belonged only to Keeler. His stomach muscles involuntarily shuddered at the touch of light fingers, but Cain stopped them before they could go any further down. He just kissed Abel again, and turned him over on his side to face the sleepy looking Navigator with the long blond hair. Spooning him close, with his nose and one eye buried in Abel's hair, looking at Keeler with one eye that he hoped said nothing at all.


	11. Chapter 11

  

 

 

**Keeler**

 

"So, you didn't come back to the room last night."  Encke, master of observation, sang an almost congratulatory tune as he put on the last layers of his uniform.

"Nope."  On the other hand, Keeler hadn't quite gotten dressed yet. He was saving it for the last minute, procrastinating by repacking his suitcase. Because once he put his uniform on, it meant he was really going back.  Keeler couldn't remember the last time that he had dreaded going back to his duties.

"So... you slept with Abel?" 

"Nope."  Keeler mischievously pressed his lips together and sat on his bed with a bounce, glad to have a reason to procrastinate now.

"No?" Encke turned his head away from the mirror with a curious eyebrow.

Keeler silently held up three fingers.

"You... slept with three Abels?" Encke obviously didn't get it. Keeler gave him a few more seconds to figure it out.Then a light bulb visibly went off in Encke's head. "Oh. OH. Oohhhhhhhh!"

"Yep," Keeler said quietly. He wasn't sure whether to feel proud or ashamed.

"Oh my god." Encke came around and sat on the other bed. He looked at his watch to see how much detail he was going to get before they had to report in. "Okay. You're not seriously telling me that you had sex with Cain, too."

"Yeah, for all intents and purposes I did." Keeler nodded and shrugged.

"Did you... like it?" Encke winced in preparation for the answer.

"Hmm... how do I put this?" Keeler stroked his chin. "Turns out, the man is a _very_ good listener. Pays attention to _detail_."

"Oh. Wow. So, I take it you don't hate him anymore?"

"Well, I only really hated him because you hated him." And that was a very convenient excuse for Keeler to hate the guy that was keeping him from Abel.

"Honey. I don't _hate_ him. You and I both know those two are heroes for what they did at the shipyard. He's a good Fighter. One of the best. But that means he's fucking dangerous. And an asshole."

"You're one of the best, too. Does that make you 'fucking dangerous and an asshole?'"

"Yes." Encke nodded vehemently. "But I trust myself to know when to turn the assholery off. I wouldn't trust Cain with you or Abel. He's a loose cannon."

Keeler stifled a dirty comment about cannons. 

Encke noticed his snickering, but wasn't amused. "You know, there are rumors that Cain gave Abel that scar that he has on his lip."

Stunned, Keeler went a little numb as his heart sunk in his chest. A very whispery "What?" was all he could manage to say.

"Yeah. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"No," Keeler shook it off. He knew what he had seen last night, how affectionate Abel and Cain were together. How perfect they looked together. How there was obviously a part of Abel that would always belong to Cain. "No, that can't be true. There's no way that Cain would hurt Abel. He's practically in love with him."

Encke just rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"I'm telling you," Keeler continued. "If you had seen what I saw last night and this morning, you would understand."

Encke looked inquisitive despite himself. "So... what exactly did you see?"

 

 

  

 

 

**Abel**

Abel took deep breaths as he waited in line to report in from leave. He tried to tell himself that it was just because it would be a while, before he got to breathe truly fresh air again. He tried to tell himself it had nothing to do with having to say goodbye to Keeler that morning, after sneaking in one last time with him, while they thought Cain had been asleep. He tried to tell himself it had nothing to do with how Cain had reacted, when it turned out he hadn't been asleep at all.

Cain, on the other hand, was wasting his last few breaths planetside by sucking them through a cigarette. He took in a drag of smoke and just let it flow out of his open mouth like an ominous cloud.

It was almost weird seeing Cain in uniform again, after a whole week of running around the galaxy in civilian clothes. It was the final omen that told Abel things were different. Even though they looked the same as they had a week prior, that was about it.

Abel gave his ID to the check-in officer to be scanned, then carried his luggage over to the small transport that would take them back to their ship. The Sleipnir was docked in a shipyard just above the planet. 

He and Cain boarded the transport together, almost stumbling through an aisle lined with feet, looking for a place to sit. Of course they passed by Keeler and Encke, one or both of whom must have been a stickler for punctuality. Abel couldn't even try to keep from blushing a bit when he made eye contact with Keeler. But he just had to keep walking. It wouldn't do to hold up the line and give way to rumors. Even if the rumors were true.

He and Cain finally sat down, and strapped themselves in. As usual, Cain was all elbows, suddenly digging around in his pockets for something at the most unopportune time. Abel just rested his head against the back of his seat, trying not to be agitated, trying not to wonder if Keeler was watching him from down the aisle, just trying not to think about anything.

Then Cain lightly tapped at Abel's arm with his knuckle, like he was knocking on a door he wasn't sure he wanted to open. Abel looked over, and then down to Cain's hand. Cain was holding out one of his earbuds for Abel to take. 

Abel put it in his ear, but there wasn't any sound. He looked back at Cain, who was just pushing the play button on the small device. And then Abel understood. Cain had picked a song for him to listen to. He wanted to share something with Abel, something woven into the lyrics of the song. Something for which words were not sufficient.

Abel looked into Cain's eyes as the first verse unfolded: eyes suddenly so vulnerable. Cain didn't look this naked even when he was naked. 

He could feel the vibration in the floor as the transport's engines started up, even as he could only hear it out of one ear. So Abel just leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. 

Abel took in one last deep breath, this time heavy with relief. Sharing a song like this with Cain, was almost as good as holding hands.

 


	12. Chapter 12

  

 

**Abel**

_You're annoying me by breathing._

_Oh... Sorry..._

_Did I hurt you?_

_Wait, what?_

_I love you._

And then Abel felt powerless. Obviously things were so messed up that even the seemingly telepathic bond between them was broken... because Cain would never say that. And maybe Cain sensed it too, because suddenly he was coming around the table and dragging Abel out of the mess hall by the elbow. Or maybe he had just wanted to fuck. Yes, Cain must have developed a new 'let's fuck' face that Abel hadn't quite caught onto yet.

 

 

 

 

**Cain**

 

 Cain locked the door to the storage room and then turned around, to see fluttering eyelids and a slightly tilted head. Abel obviously thought they were there to fuck. Well, he couldn't really blame him for that, it had been a few days. He grabbed a tensed shoulder and snapped his fingers in Abel's face a few times to get his attention. 

"Hey.  You upset with me?"

"N-no, I thought you were upset with me!"  Abel was violently shaking his head, like he was trying to convince himself.

"Princess, ever since we got back to the ship, you've been moping around, looking like someone strangled your iguana! -- okay that came out wrong -- "

"Why didn't you want me to?"

And Cain realized he had gotten closer to the problem than he could have intended. "Heh! Why didn't I want you to, uh...?"

But Abel obviously didn't think it was funny at all. "I just feel like I did something wrong. I must have done something that made you not... want me."

"What?! No..." Cain reiterated emphatically: "NO." Cain would never have words for how bad he wanted Abel, even when Abel had been completely his.

"Then what was it?"

Cain sighed, and leaned his head back against the door, wondering if maybe he could just bash his own skull in, instead of talking about his feelings. How on Earth was he going to explain what had happened? How it made him feel, to see Abel transform into someone else before his eyes?  

"Seeing you with Keeler... made me feel..." Cain exhaled, already exasperated. "...things. Okay?"

Abel's eyes shifted around the small space, as if one of the storage crates might chime in and help him understand. "What... kind of things?" 

Cain agitatedly ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I don't know... You're different with him. You act different... You touch him different."

"Yeah. I feel different," Abel quietly confessed to the floor.

Cain had never been a part of an actual breakup before. And now he and Abel were going to have to break up, just as he was realizing they were something that was fused together, and had to be broken apart.  "You just looked like you were... happy."

"Yeah." Abel still didn't meet his gaze. 

"Are you... happy when you're with me?" Cain asked, trying not to look too much like his sanity depended on the response.

"...Sometimes?" But the hesitation, and the pain in Abel's eyes said it was really only the one time.

Cain hung his head down in shame. "That's not the right answer, Abel."

"I'm sorry."

And then Cain was so mad at himself that he almost lost it. "No." He emphasized the word by beating his fist on the door behind him. "No, don't you dare apologize for _me_ making _you_ miserable."

"It doesn't make me _miserable_. It makes me feel... _good_...  it just doesn't make me feel _happy_."

"Well what the fuck is the difference?!" 

"There's a huge difference, Cain! When we're together, it's just so... intense? I guess I don't have much chance to think about _how_ I feel."

Cain mustered up all of his self control in order to lower his voice. "Well, I'm happy... when I'm with you?" 

There was a long stretch of silence, then suddenly, Abel threw his arms around Cain's shoulders and buried his face in his Fighter's neck. It took Cain a few seconds to remember what to do in this situation, but eventually he wrapped his arms around Abel's back and hugged him close. They stood there for a long time. Cain wondered why they'd never done it before. He focused on burning the feeling of Abel's heat into his skin in case it was the last time. 

"Cain?" Abel asked, his voice muffled by Cain's jacket.

"Hmm?" He buried his nose in soft blond hair.

Abel pulled away and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "My scar is fading."

Cain brought his hand up and affectionately ran a thumb over the small mark. "Yeah, it is." It almost seemed like a sign. 

"Would you...?" 

Cain knew what Abel wanted. It didn't make any sense. "Wait. You're not breaking up with me?"

Abel looked as confused as Cain felt. "What? No! I... like my scar. I want it back."

And while it was a comfort that Abel still wanted to belong to him, and it hurt like fuck to say no, he knew he had to. Now was not the time. Not with things so wrong between them. 

Cain shook his head, gently holding Abel's face in his hand. 

Abel suddenly looked so small. "So... you really don't want me anymore?" 

Abel's voice was starting to crack. Cain didn't want this kind of power. He shouldn't have the power to break Abel's heart without saying a word. The Abel that belonged to Keeler would never break so easily.

"Shh.... Baby..." Cain brought him close, and kissed his forehead. He spoke softly, so that Abel would have to stop sniffling to hear him.  "I want you. I want you _so bad_. Okay? I _chose_ _you_. But you have to choose too." 

"But... _this is what I choose, Cain! I want you!"_ Abel's voice was divided between whispering and shouting.

Cain shook his head again slowly, silently pleading with Abel not to cry. "I don't deserve to have you, unless you're happy."

 

(ATTENTION. ALL NAVIGATION PERSONNEL.)

Abel jumped closer into Cain's arms at the sudden blaring of the intercom.

(REPORT TO THE MAIN BRIEFING ROOM IN DRESS WHITES AT 1500 HOURS)

"Dress whites?" Abel wondered aloud, as the message repeated. They both knew dress whites meant something big was happening.

"Come on, hot stuff, let's go. It's been a while since I saw you in your dress... whites," Cain teased, trying to lighten the mood as he opened the door, even as he felt his heart plummet into his his stomach, because Abel in dress whites always meant that Abel might not come back.

Abel just gave him a demure smile, dabbing at his eyes as he passed, and walked out into the light.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Cain**

 

Cain sat on the mattress, distracting himself by shining Abel's shoes, as Abel flitted around the cramped quarters half dressed, in just his white trousers: worrying over his hair, and burning his fingers on the iron, and going over every little piece of his uniform to make sure it would be perfect when he put it all together. 

"Do you think there's gonna be a change of command?"

Cain was really only half-interested in speculation. "Don't know, princess."

"It's weird that they've only called for the Navigators and not the Fighters, don't you think? Maybe someone's getting promoted." Abel slowly put his coat on, being careful not to wrinkle it. "Can you hand me my belt?"

Cain passed it over. "Not sure. Hasn't been any gossip." He would usually hear rumors about these kinds of things before they happened. So maybe that meant someone was keeping them in the dark on purpose. Maybe keeping  _Cain_ in the dark on purpose.

"Maybe it's a secret visitor. Like a state official from Earth or something."  

" _Hey, maybe it's your dad!_ I've been _dying_ to meet _him_!" Cain entoned sarcastically, leaving out the part about how he wanted to punch Abel's dad in the face, if they ever did meet.

"Tch!" Abel rolled his eyes at first, but then meekly added, "No. He doesn't have any reason to come out here."

"Hmm." Realizing he'd hit a sore subject, Cain decided to change it. Carrying the dress shoes, he stood up and walked over to where Abel was standing in the mirror, fidgeting with buttons and insignias. "Can't wait to get you out of that uniform, hot stuff." 

"Cain! You better not start anything, I have to go soon!"

Cain knelt down beside him. "Can't sit down now, you'll get all wrinkled. Lift up your foot." Abel did, and Cain slipped on a shoe and tied it for him, freeing Abel to continue fidgeting with his top half. He put on the other shoe and then stood up.   
  
Abel turned away from the mirror, craning his neck to show Cain his collar. "Are my wings on straight?"

Cain efficiently mock-inspected Abel from head to toe,  and gingerly straightened his wings. “You look fine.”

Abel smiled. The brightness had returned to his eyes already, but it was dimming again, fast. “Cain, about earlier --”

“Hey," Cain interrupted, certain that tears were not a sanctioned accessory of the dress uniform. "It's okay. We'll talk about it when you get back, yeah?” Cain tried his best to smile back.

Abel nodded. “Okay.” He took a deep breath and then walked out, looking back at Cain over his shoulder one last time, before the door closed.

 

  
As soon as he was gone, Cain went into a fury. The first thing he decided to do was to punch the metal wall. That hurt somewhat, so then he just let out a loud roar. He was tearing and pacing across the small room. This couldn't be happening. Abel was going to get promoted, and then he was going to leave Cain and get transferred, and go be someone else's Navigator, and then –-

(ATTENTION. ALL COMBAT PERSONNEL.)

“Well.” Cain said in a huff, stopping to catch his breath.

(REPORT TO THE FIGHTERS' COMMON AREA IN DRESS BLACKS AT 1600 HOURS)

“I'll be damned.”

Cain went into a different kind of fury then, getting his uniform together, and dressing in a hurry, with no one to help him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
“Attention to orders! This is to certify that the Federated Alliance Commendation Medal, the Distinguished Silver Star, has been awarded to Fighter First Class, Task Name Cain. For valorous service...”

This couldn't be happening. Surely they weren't going to give him a medal for his part in that clusterfuck.

“...and along with his Navigator, single-handedly destroyed the communications system of the enemy shipyard, under heavy fire.”

Along with his Navigator was right. So he had pulled the trigger. Cain certainly didn't feel like a hero just for that. He was just along for the ride. It was Abel's flying that had gotten them in and out of that fucking mess.

"...and despite damage to their own ship, assisted in the escort of three disabled Starfighters and their crews to safety, destroying three dozen enemy fighters in the process, and without losing a single life among the evacuees..."

Cain conceded to himself that _that_ part was a pretty big deal, and maybe worth getting a medal for.

“...these acts of skill and bravery were instrumental in turning the tide of both the battle, and possibly the war. By his unlimited courage in the face of enemy fire, and utmost dedication to duty, this Fighter reflected great credit upon himself, and the Federated Alliance Fleet.”

Even though Cain had never been through this before, he knew what to do. He turned sharply to the right to face Lieutenant Encke, who had been standing at attention beside him.

Encke's expression was unreadable as he carefully pinned the shiny Silver Star onto Cain's uniform. They were still at attention, so Cain's face was supposed to be blank. And it was easier to focus on just not moving, just staring straight ahead, instead of all of the Fighters watching, and the loud beating of his heart in his chest, all the snippets of memories rattling around in his brain.

Then the Lieutenant reached out to shake his hand. “Congratulations, Fighter,” and they gave each other a very rare, but sincere salute.

“Thank you, sir.” Cain managed to say, still almost numb with shock.

Both of them turned back out towards the room full of Fighters who stood to pay witness to the commendation. “At ease,” Encke said to them, and then a few of them started clapping. Pretty soon, the whole room was cheering and applauding, for Cain. Just for him; they weren't giving out any other awards that day.

Cain had never felt more unworthy in all of his life.

 

 

After the ceremony, Encke invited Cain into his office. “Please, sit down.” He gestured at a chair.

Cain sat across the desk from Encke, who started rummaging in a drawer. Cain suddenly realized he'd never been in this room unless he was in trouble for something.

“Sir,” Cain looked down at the medal on his chest for about the hundredth time. “Do you mind if I ask...”

Encke looked too distracted with searching for something to mind.

“Who put me in for this? Was it Bering?”

“I did.” Encke had finally found what he was looking for: two cigars. Cain was sure this was the first time he'd ever seen Encke smile. “All the way from Earth!" he said as he unwrapped one and handed it to Cain. "Been saving these for a special occasion. Seems good as any.”

Cain reached across the table and took the cigar.

“Got a cutter around here somewhere...” Encke immediately continued digging.

Cain studied the cigar carefully, then sniffed at it, wondering if that was what Earth smelled like before they'd covered it in cement. He'd never actually had a cigar before, but he was more concerned about something else. “ _You did_ , sir?”

“Keeler and I put the applications in a while ago.” Encke pulled out a small metal device and looked up at Cain. “I know that you and I don't always see eye to eye, Cain, but you deserve this. Really. A lot of us owe you and Abel our lives.”

Cain looked back at the cigar, but it was really to avoid any further discussion about what he did and did not deserve. He'd had enough of that for one day.

“You ever smoke one of these?” Encke asked.

“Well, I smoke cigarettes.”

“No no no, this is nothing like that. Here...”

Encke came over and sat on the edge of his desk, genially talking Cain through the whole process. How to use the cutter, how to light the cigar without getting it too hot, how to smoke it slowly and not inhale... It really was different, but Cain was starting to appreciate it.

“So, what do you think?” Encke asked him, sitting back in his chair.

Cain took another slow drag and exhaled, thinking hard about it. “Um... it tastes... almost sweet.” There were several flavors Cain suspected he couldn't identify because he'd spent very little time on Earth, and had a diet consisting mostly of unidentifiable meat and vegetables. “And... uh, is that coffee?!” he said with surprise.

Encke let out a hearty laugh, still holding the cigar between his teeth. “You're catching on pretty quick!” He took it out of his mouth then and looked seriously at Cain. “While I've got you here, there was something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Okay? I mean -- sir?” Cain quickly corrected himself.

“The game. Paintball.”

“Oh, right.” So they were going to discuss his greatest triumphs and most embarrassing failures back to back.

“Well, how do you think you did, Captain?”

Cain shook his head. He hadn't had a lot of time to think about it, but he hadn't really wanted to. “I don't think I did very well, sir.”

Encke leaned onto the desk. “Why not? You won the game, didn't you?”

Cain looked at the floor, taking another puff of his cigar, and tasting something spicy. He knew Encke was just playing devil's advocate. “No. I commandeered Keeler, and Keeler won the game for me.”

Encke nodded his head, encouraging Cain to keep going.

“We –- _I_ underestimated them. If it hadn't been for Keeler, we would have lost.” Cain sighed, slow and heavy. “But I definitely know what I would have done different.”

“And what is that?” Surprisingly, Encke seemed genuinely interested.

“I didn't think we would need any advanced equipment. I should have taken them up on that. I should have equipped the team with anti-stealth. Something to fry the electronics of their suits or --”

“Cain.” Encke interrupted, shaking his head, and waving the hand that held his cigar. “In a real battle, it won't do you any good to whine about what equipment you don't have. You can only worry about what you _do_ have. So... Tell me... What would you have done with what you had?”

He reached into his mind, back to that day, and the heat, and the chaos, and his own rage... two of his men down before he even knew what was happening. “I could have used my time more wisely. Slowed down, and gotten to know my enemy.”

Encke leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. That must have meant Cain was headed in the right direction. “The whole purpose of the exercise was strategy versus... well, just skill. I should have found out what I was up against in order to react better.”

“And once you knew what you were up against?”

Cain was silent for a few moments, working it out in his mind. How do you fight an enemy that you can't see? Or can barely see? “The smart camo isn't perfect, even when used properly. In order for their plan to work, they had to assume we'd rush after them. I should have kept the team together, instead of splitting us apart to be picked off one by one. We could have taken a defensive position and forced them to come to us."

"That's true, but that could also have created a stalemate, where neither side made any offensive moves," Encke countered.

"Even so. By keeping the team together and taking time to hide behind cover, we could have methodically swept the map and had minimum casualties.”

“Good, Cain. That's all really good stuff.” Encke said, “But you bring up an excellent point. Casualties.”

Encke had been one of those casualties, of course. Cain shifted in his chair, fully expecting him to throw that in his face next. But he didn't. No, this was far worse.

“What if we had come back from Colteron space with fifty percent fatalities?”

Fifty percent. There was that damned number again. But Encke was right. Fifty percent of the personnel would mean all of the Fighters or all of the Navigators. Fifty percent odds meant either he or Abel would be dead. Either Keeler or Encke would be dead. Either that little curly headed kid or Praxis would be dead. Cain answered gravely. “That would have been... _unacceptable_. Sir.”

Encke nodded in agreement, taking in another puff of smoke. Cain followed suit, still trying to figure out what all this was about.

Encke leaned forward on the desk again. “Here's the deal. You've been number two in the rankings, pretty much since you were transferred to the Sleipnir. You've done very well here. And between you and me...” Encke tilted his head in disapproval. “... if you spent a little more time shoring up your skills, and a little _less_ time chasing after Navigator tail, then you'd probably be giving _me_ a run for my money.”

Cain couldn't help but chuckle to himself at that.

“That being said, if you keep this up, in a few months, I'm going to get asked to review you for a possible commission. To be the Second Fighter on this ship.”

Stunned, Cain just stared at Encke, trying to figure out how to react. Was he supposed to look happy? Was he supposed to look bored? Did he even _want_ to be an officer?

“Now Cain, Fighters become officers in pretty much one of three ways.” Encke counted them on his fingers while still somehow holding his cigar. “They either kiss ass, stab people in the back, or, they earn the respect of their peers. They prove themselves to be a leader, before command bothers to tell them that they are one.”

Cain remained carefully stoic on the point of kissing officers' asses, which he had recently, _literally_ done. He prayed to the stars that he wasn't going to blush. Wait -– did Encke know? He and Keeler _were_ roommates –-

Encke continued. "Now I hope that you know which of those three _I_ did."

Cain did know. He was hard on his men, but Encke was a true leader. The Fighters genuinely respected him, even if they didn't like him.

He also suspected which one of those three Bering had done.

“A certain... Lead Navigator,” Encke sighed and rolled his eyes slightly, “Has asked me to remind you. That if Abel is promoted, and you are not -- which is highly likely as things stand right now -– that the two of you will be reassigned. And it is possible that Abel will be transferred to another ship entirely.”

Cain was really starting to suspect that his poker face was doing him no good at all. Was Keeler trying to _help_ him stay with Abel now? And Encke was in on it too? “What do I need to do?” Cain asked as flatly as he could manage.

“Cain, I need a Second Fighter that I can trust, to help me keep these Fighters in line. All of that time you spent with your stupid alpha dog, king-of-the-hill mentality is not going to get you this promotion. I know you're a good _Fighter_ , Cain. I've just put a medal on your chest to prove it. I need to know you're going to be a good _leader_.

“This isn't about your ability to _kill_. This is about being able to control a ship full of ruthless _killers,_ without ending up with a target on your head. While simultaneously keeping too many of _them_ from getting _killed_. You need to prove to me that you can do that. Do you understand?”

Cain pondered for a second. “You're saying that in order to become an officer, I have to _become_ an officer.”

Encke chuckled, impressed at last. “Precisely.”

Cain sat there, silently counting the ways by which one could fuck up becoming an officer. He very quickly ran out of fingers.


	14. Chapter 14

  
**Abel**  

 

Abel wasn't good at being the center of attention. Sure, he liked to be noticed, liked to be appreciated, just like anyone else, but never really knew how to handle himself once it happened. It always seemed to get Abel accused of being a bit of an attention whore, by certain people (cough Phobos cough). But Abel couldn't help that he was gifted. He couldn't help that he did things that made people take notice. What was he supposed to do, just stop doing extraordinary things just so people would leave him alone?

All of a sudden, Abel was surrounded by other Navigators, who wanted to congratulate him, and shake his hand, and reminisce about the battle and how terrifying it had been, and how exciting. While there were a few people that just hung back, wallflowering it up and giving him nasty looks (cough Phobos cough), most everyone seemed to want a piece of him.

Everyone, except the one person that Abel wanted back.

Keeler stood off by himself, making small talk with a few others who came up to him, but mostly just looking alone. Stuck back in that Lieutenant mode that Abel had really not missed at all when they were on leave together. If he could just go over there and tear down that wall for one moment... just to get a taste of what it had been like...

He broke himself away from the crowd and drifted over. "Hey, Keeler."

"Oh. Hey, Abel. Congratulations again." Keeler smiled, but it was the cold, professional smile, not the one full of promises and secrets and warmth.

"Thanks." Abel laughed nervously, looking down at his medal. "I, uh, have to say I was really surprised!" 

Keeler didn't really react to Abel's enthusiasm. His smile only got microscopically wider. "You shouldn't be. You deserve it. We're all very proud of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my duties."

"Wait, Keeler --"

"I'll see you around, Abel." 

Then Keeler walked out of the room, leaving Abel with his new shiny medal, his crowd of admirers, and a huge empty hole in his heart.


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

**Cain**

 

It was all coming back to Cain now, as he rode the lift back to his quarters. How it had been, the night after the battle at the shipyard. When it was just sinking in, how close he and Abel had come to losing their lives... to losing each other... how reckless they had been with each other. They would have fucked until the sun came up, but the sun never came up in space. Even so, they were up all night, just sexing each other into exhaustion, trying to make up for all the times that they might not have had. 

That was the first night he'd hid his eyes from Abel. So that Abel wouldn't see his eyes momentarily fill up with tears.

And ever since that night, Cain had been filled with this unshakable fear... Fear of losing Abel. Maybe he would lose him to the Colterons, or to Keeler, or to his own stupidity. But he was so sure it was only a matter of time. It made him hold Abel closer whenever they were together, just in case one day Abel never came back.

 

Abel had long since taken his uniform off, when Cain finally returned to their room. He was sitting on the mattresses with his computer, in just some shorts and a tank top, and a sour look on his face. Despite that, he still looked up and down at Cain in his black uniform, with interested eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," Cain answered, his eyes shifting around the room, looking for the invisible source of Abel's irritation, wondering how hard it would be to chase it away. He walked over to Abel's side of the bed and reached for his hands. 

Abel let Cain pull him up, closed his eyes as Cain gently grabbed a fist full of blond hair, melted as Cain kissed him. But then he flinched and pulled away. 

"You taste funny." Abel declared. 

"Oh, uh, I had a cigar."

"Where did you get a cigar?!"

"Encke."

"Oh." Abel shrugged, and let Cain kiss him again.

But something was off. They weren't quite finding a rhythm with their lips. Abel seemed to be fighting for more control of the kiss than he normally did, and so Cain gave in to that, only to have Abel pull away.

"I'm sorry Cain, I just... I don't feel like it." 

Cain felt his eyes popping out of his head. "You... _don't want to?_ " They hadn't done it since that amazing night they'd had with Keeler. Something was wrong.

"No, I just... no. I don't want to."

Abel? Saying no to sex? This was bad. Really bad. "Is this about earlier?" Cain half-demanded.

"No -- Yes! ... sort of. I just... have a lot on my mind right now," Abel mumbled and sat back down on the bed with a whoosh of air.

Cain just stood there, eyes darting around the room again, trying to figure out what to do. What could have caused this great disturbance in the natural order of things? 

Cain took a shot in the dark. "Do... you... want to... talk... about it?" He winced, hoping that wasn't the answer. Anything but talking about feelings again.

Abel sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. Then he rubbed at his eyes in exasperation. Finally he said, "Did you really tell Magda that I was your boyfriend?"

This was not what Cain had been expecting to talk about at all. "Ummmm.... yes?"

"Well... when were you planning on telling  _me_ that I was your boyfriend?"

Cain didn't have a good answer. "Didn't... you know?" 

"No, Cain. I didn't. I didn't know _how_ you felt. I don't know how you feel _now_. And here I've been torturing myself! Telling myself not to feel _anything_ , because I thought _you_ didn't feel anything..."

Cain shifted his weight between his feet, searching for words, but Abel continued before he found them. "Meanwhile Keeler, is _very_ overt about how he feels, and I'm just... really _drawn_ to that, and really confused. Everything is just so complicated now."

So it was going to be options two and three, then. Cain was going to lose Abel, to Keeler _and_ his own stupidity. Abel, Keeler, and his stupidity were going to have another threesome without him.

But how could Abel not know how Cain felt? If sharing a bed, and fucking on an almost daily basis, and doing an exorbitant amount of cuddling didn't do it, then what would?

Maybe it was time to pull out the big guns...

"Okay." Cain held out a finger. "Hold that thought." He went over to their foot locker, and reached into the bottom, where he had hidden a small, black velvet pouch. He pulled it out, and then sat on his knees on the floor next to Abel. He beckoned for Abel to come forward to the edge of the mattress.

"Listen. I'm not good at talking. Okay? I'm good at... doing. We can call this..." he gestured to himself and Abel, "whatever you want. But to me, it's what we _do_ that matters. Not what we say we are _doing_. I called you my boyfriend because I realized, it was the only word that fit. It's just a word."

He held up the pouch. "I meant this to be a, birthday present, or Christmas or something... But, I guess it will have to be a, 'Congratulations for being a war hero, and also... I love you'... present."

Cain reached out and put his hand on Abel's knee. "I love you." He shrugged helplessly. "It's the only word that fits."

Abel's wide, expressive eyes went back and forth between the pouch, and Cain's face. Blushing, he finally settled on the small gift in his hands, opening it up and taking out the watch that Cain had bought for him. Abel stared at it in astonishment.

"I uh, was going to buy you a music player, you know? A nice one? One of the new ones from Earth? So you'd stop stealing my headphones, heh..." Cain lightly teased. "But... this is better."

Abel smiled. "It... looks so much like the one I pointed out to you."

"Yeah. But this one is real." 

 "This is what you were doing? When you left me at Magda's?"

Cain nodded. Then Abel's interest was drawn to a small white tag, that was hanging from the watch on a string. Cain took in a deep breath, as what the tag said, may have been the stupidest thing he'd ever done. 

He had written: _To Ethan. From Sacha._

Abel's face went pale when it finally clicked. "How -- _how do you know my real name?!_ " he practically whispered.

Cain shrugged, forcing his mouth into a casual smirk, just to help Abel stay calm about it. "I did some snooping." It was a lie, but that was a confession for another day. It was a relief to confess he knew the name at all. "I know we're not supposed to say it. So I cheated. And wrote it down."

Cain looked down at the floor. "I... I've never told anyone before. The whole time I've been a Fighter. I never told anyone."

He smiled as he heard the jingling of the watch that meant that Abel was putting it on. "So, anyway. _That's_ how I feel about you." 

Abel's voice was the tiniest whisper as he put his hand on top of Cain's.

"Sacha--" . But it was enough to propel Cain into action, needing Abel now, more than he ever had. In an instant, he closed the space between them, lifting himself up to Abel's face. But then he remembered, Abel hadn't wanted to. So he just leaned in and closed his eyes, to see if Abel would kiss him. 

 

It was probably only about half a second, but it seemed like an eternity before Abel actually did. Cain just kissed him back slow, trying to avoid the awkwardness from earlier. But Abel became insistent, pulling Cain closer and tugging at the belt of Cain's uniform to take it off... leaning down to plant kisses on Cain's collarbone as his coat slid off his shoulders, and they heard the pleasant ring of the Silver Star as it hit the floor. 

Cain laughed quietly, lifting up his arms, as Abel was already going after his undershirt, too, suddenly in a real hurry to get him naked. Cain kissed him again, and then lifted up Abel's shirt, licking at his chest and then nibbling at Abel's neck as he took it off, hearing the watch rattle above their heads. Abel leaned his head back, as Cain groped at him through his shorts, and then bent down to take his cock into his mouth. Not in the relentless, demanding way he normally did, but slow and needy and teasing.

"Ahhhhh?" Abel moaned, encouraging Cain to take him deeper. But finally, he grew impatient and started thrusting into Cain's mouth. Abel gasped in pleasure and twisted his fingers into Cain's hair. And Cain just let him, let Abel fuck his mouth just the way he wanted to, welcoming each thrust with his tongue, moaning over his cock so Abel would moan too.

Then Cain grabbed onto Abel's hips and gently pulled away, looking up into those dark eyes and wondering if he would have to ask, or if somehow Abel would just know. He climbed over to his side of the bed and laid on his back, and Abel shifted over to meet him. 

"Abel." Cain pleaded as his trousers were tugged off and discarded. Abel straddled him, holding Cain's wrists above his head against the mattress and kissing at his neck. Then he reached under the mattress for the secret stash of stuff.

Cain swallowed to gather his nerves. "Ethan?" 

Abel froze, looking down at him anxiously.

"I..." Cain's voice didn't want to work, needing it so bad he couldn't even say it. "I need you."

Abel's eyes got noticably wider in the dark. "I need you, too," he whispered and then kissed Cain again, intense and desperate like his voice.

"Mmm -- no..." He pulled away. "Baby." Cain took Abel's hand, which was holding a gob of stuff, and scooped it onto his own fingers. Then he took a hold of Abel's cock, stroking it and getting it ready. " _I need you,"_  he whispered again, more insistent to get the point across.

Abel's eyebrows quirked up in surprise, and he froze again for a few heartbeats. But when he did move, he moved quickly, off of Cain and rearranging them so he was in between Cain's legs. Then his fingers were back in Cain's hair, and some of his other fingers were making their way somewhere else.

Cain closed his eyes, trying to relax, trying not to think about the other times that he'd done this, because those times were full of regret. He wanted to pretend this time was the first time, even though it wouldn't be. But it was the first time with ~~Abel~~  Ethan, and that would have to be enough. 

 

"Uhh!" Cain's breath caught in his lungs as Abel's fingers found just the right spot inside him. Abel pushed in firmer, and Cain involuntarily let out a loud groan and arched into it. "Fuck! Baby..." 

Abel gave him a knowing giggle, as he continued pressing in his fingers. "Is that good?" he breathed.

"Ye-- fuck! Yessss..." Cain hissed. His skin was on fire. He closed his eyes, as if to avoid seeing himself glow red in the dark.

Abel moved his other hand down and started gently massaging at Cain's balls, and stroking his cock in one fluid motion, up and down while he worked Cain open.  Cain's eyes shot open then, and his mouth stretched open too, in a silent "Ah" shape, as he pleaded with the ceiling to save him.

Then Abel climbed over him, kissing one last time and looking intensely into Cain's eyes, as he slowly pushed into him, stretching Cain open. It felt so good, and so right. 

"--Nnguh!" Abel startled as Cain pushed back, wrapping his legs around Abel's waist and taking more of him in, urging him to move. Abel straightened his back, and moved with precision into Cain, into that same spot that made him want to scream.

"Fuck!" Cain was starting to realize his usual sex vocabulary was not going to be sufficient. "God _damn_. Hot stuff, you-are- _good_ -at-this..."

Abel just chuckled deviously and ran his hands up to Cain's nipples, to give them a light pinch. Cain jerked from the sudden rush of sensation, moaning helplessly, pushing Abel's cock even deeper inside him and making Abel moan, too. They picked up the pace then, with Abel leaning down, and rocking into him, and firmly stroking Cain's cock. He just put his arms around Abel's back and held on, bracing against the ever-growing feeling like he was totally out of control. 

Flying embers of light danced on the edges of his vision, as if there was a tiny Starfighter battle raging on behind his eyeballs. Drowning in pleasure, Cain was barely aware of his own loud moaning as he came. And even less aware of the sudden hissing and grunting that Abel was doing above him. And even less aware, that Abel was making those sounds because Cain had dug in with his nails, and scratched deep into Abel's back. And even less aware that Abel had been pulled over the edge into orgasm with him, as suddenly as if Cain had pulled his feet out from under him and dragged him over a cliff.

 

It was a while before he came back to his senses. He shuddered a final time as Abel slowly pulled out of him. He lay there boneless as Abel swiftly cleaned them both off with a towel.

And then he remembered. 

He sat up suddenly. "Hey. Let me see."

"What?" Abel whispered and shook his head.

"Your back. Let me see. Turn around."

Abel flipped over and sat on the bed, holding his head down below his shoulders. Cain moved foward so that his legs were on either side of Abel's legs, and peered in the dim light. Sure enough, there were several red marks going down Abel's back. He lightly kissed them, making Abel hunch his shoulders more and hiss in pain. 

Cain put his arms around Abel's waist and held him, nuzzling his hair. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Abel turned his head back to look at Cain. "I... I actually kind of like it." 

Cain's forehead wrinkled. "But... I thought you said, no biting? You changed your mind?"

"I don't know. It's like... the next day? After? I can feel where you touched me. And I can remember what we were doing when I got those marks. And... it's like, I can just think to myself: 'Cain was here.'" Abel shrugged. "It's just, a nice... reminder. Of us. Just in case -- just in case you don't --"

"Shh..." Cain squeezed tighter and closed his eyes, silently willing for him not to say it.

Abel was afraid of losing him, too.

 

They were silent for a long time after that, just sitting on the bed holding each other, until finally, Cain started to nod off, and pulled himself and Abel under the sheets. Having had a lot of time to think, Cain reached over to his alarm on the floor, and set it for five in the morning. Then he took Abel into his arms, spooning him close, listening to the quiet tick of the watch on Abel's wrist as he fell asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

 

 

**Abel**

 

It was way too early in the morning. Abel didn't know how early, he just knew it was too early. Cain's alarm was making a raucous noise, and he was sleeping right through it. Abel poked with his elbow at the Fighter spooning him to wake him up.

“Hhuh!! What?!” Cain jolted awake from what must have been a very peaceful sleep.

_“Your alarm._ ” Abel groaned over his shoulder, very annoyed.

Cain growled and rolled over the side of the mattress to turn it off.

“What _time_ is it?” Abel whined, pulling the covers more over himself, as if that would make it even more dark than it already was.

“It's five. Go back to sleep, princess.”

“ _Five?!_ What on Earth are you getting up at five for?” Abel rolled over to look at Cain, who had laid back down on his back. They were both still naked from the night before. Cain rubbed at his eyes, and blinked forcefully, trying to keep them open.

“I have things I need to take care of,” Cain answered cryptically.

“What kind of things?” Abel yawned, and curled into Cain's side, wrapping his arms around him. He didn't even feel a little bit bad for trying to prevent Cain from getting out of bed.

Cain turned to face him, and gave him a small kiss on the lips before lifting up and rolling out of bed. “Fighter-ey things.”

Abel lay there, watching sleepily as Cain made his way around the small room, stretching and picking up parts of his dress uniform off the floor. It might have been Abel's imagination, but Cain seemed to be walking a bit differently. He let out a small giggle.

Cain turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

“Hmm, oh nothing!” He hid half his face under the covers so Cain couldn't see his huge smile.

Cain just shook his head, muttering something about “weird Navigators,” as he grabbed a towel and walked out to go take a shower.

Abel breathed in deeply, not really wanting to wake up, but slowly realizing he had awakened into a whole new existence. A new _world_ where Cain was in love with him, and was his boyfriend, and knew his real name, and apparently, wasn't opposed to switching...

...and gave him presents. Abel lifted his wrist up to his eyes in the darkness to look at the watch. Six minutes after five. Luckily, the Federated Alliance operated on a twenty-four hour cycle.

Abel let his wrist fall back down on the bed, and tried to sort out his feelings. There was of course one huge, looming question, that had been conveniently discarded along with their clothes during the night. _Did_ he love Cain back?

He had spent such a large part of his life wanting to belong to someone... _wanting_ to be in love, but now that it was actually happening, it was so different from what he had expected. _Cain_ was so different from what he had expected...

He fell asleep again before he could even come up with an answer, and didn't wake up until his own alarm went off at seven, long after Cain had come back to the room and then left again.

 

* * *

 

 

Working in the lab that day was torture. He and Ethos were on duty, watching their scanners for any signs of enemy presence, keeping the ship on course for its patrol near the border of Colteron space. Working with Ethos was fine. It was their supervisor that was the problem.

It was hard to tell how much of it was in Abel's head, and how much of it was real, but the Lieutenant was acting strange. He could almost feel Keeler's eyes burning into the back of his head when he wasn't looking. There was an oppressively negative vibe in the air. Abel hated it... was sure he hadn't done anything to deserve it. It made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

He couldn't even try to focus on his work. It was a good thing that there were no Colterons in the area that day, because Abel may not have spotted them. Trying to figure out how he felt about Cain... how he felt about Keeler... that was enough to occupy his mind.

_It's what we do that matters. Not what we say we are doing_ , Cain had said.

He had to do something. He just didn't know what.

“I'm gonna grab something from the mess hall.” Keeler declared and rose up from his chair.

As Abel listened to the whisper of the door as Keeler left, he gathered up the nerve to take some kind of action. He shot up out of his chair, ran out the door and caught up to Keeler, grabbing him by the crook his arm.

Keeler startled, and then gave him an unwelcome look. “What do you want, Abel?”

He shook his head pleadingly. “Don't -– don't do that.”

“Do what?” the Lieutenant answered, tilting his head to the side coldly.

“This. This thing that you're doing? Keeler, I've known that you had feelings for me for a while.”

Keeler crossed his arms, shifting his weight and looking at the floor in feigned callousness.

“So... trying to act like you don't feel anything? Like you don't care? You suck at that.” Abel closed the space in between them, silently willing for Keeler to look him in the eyes. “I can tell that you're hurting. And that hurts me, too, because... it's probably my fault...”

Keeler's expression was starting to melt. He looked up at Abel, his eyes slowly revealing the hurt that was hiding underneath.

“I'm sorry. Whatever it was I did -- I'm sorry. But you have to talk to me, okay? Please, don't ever hide yourself from me. I get enough of that from Cain, I don't need it from you, too.”

He knew immediately he had said exactly the wrong thing, as Keeler's expression hardened again. Abel took a step back and pressed his lips together in a silent apology.

Keeler's eyes were ice cold now. “So, this isn't the conversation where you tell me that you and Cain aren't together anymore, and that you miss me, and want to be with me instead?”

Abel just barely shook his head to answer in the negative. He and Cain were more together than they'd ever been. But he couldn't stand to see Keeler this way. And as bad as he wanted to belong to Cain, he wanted Keeler to belong to him. “No. It's much simpler, and a lot more complicated than that.”

Abel stepped forward again, putting his hand on Keeler's arm. “I do miss you. And, I really. _Really_ liked being with you. Can't we just... leave the conversation there for now?”

Keeler's eyes narrowed, his arms tightly hugging himself protectively. Abel had thrown his own words back in his face. “No. We can't,” he echoed, voice barely cracking as he turned and walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

**Cain**

 

Cain's first day at attempting to act like an officer had been relatively uneventful. Since he didn't really have the first clue as to what officers actually did, it had pretty much just meant doing what he normally did, with a slightly more authoritative spring in his step, and two hours earlier than he normally did it. Besides shooting at Colterons, Cain was also on inventory duty on the ship, which meant that he had convenient access to all of the storage closets. But it also meant he had to keep them organized. After doing inventory on a closet full of ammunition, it was still not even his lunch time. But, having no officer-ey things to do, Cain decided to grab something to eat anyway.

And since he was sitting in the mess hall at a different time than normal, he was there to see Keeler rushing in, braid flying behind him like a flag in stormy winds. Their eyes met, and Keeler gave Cain the death look of the century.

Cain froze mid-chew, cocking an eyebrow up, as if to ask Keeler what the fuck he had done. But Keeler didn't look at him again, just hastily started grabbing food from the Navigator side of the room.

Less than a minute later, Encke strode in, looking overburdened and exasperated. He grabbed a tray and sat across from Cain at the table.

“Morning, Reliant.” Encke said gruffly.

“Lieutenant.”

“You're not usually in here.”

“Well, I'm running a bit ahead of schedule today, sir,” Cain explained.

Encke shrugged and began chowing down, so Cain turned his eyes back to Keeler, who was hurrying out of the hall. “What's with your Navigator?”

“Hmm?” Encke answered, his mouth full of food.

“From that look he just gave me, I think I'm lucky to be alive,” Cain chuckled nervously.

“Hrk!” The Lieutenant started choking on a laugh and a bit of cafeteria borscht.

“I'm not entirely sure I deserved that.”

“No.” Encke spoke between chews. “You didn't -- something Abel did.” It was clear he knew more about it than he wanted to.

Cain nodded slowly. This was certainly an interesting development. He needed to get more information. “You want to just... skip past the part, where we pretend neither of us knows what the fuck is going on, and just talk about this?”

Encke sighed in relief. “Oh my god, yes. But only if you're interested in actually doing something to _fix_ it. I am so sick of hearing Keeler bitch about it. I'm not gonna say anything to you that will make it worse.”

Cain swayed his head back and forth, weighing their options. “Fair enough. How about this. I will say what I know, and, maybe you fill in some gaps for me, yeah?”

Encke nodded, mouth full of food. “Fair enough.”

“Okay. So. Me, and Abel, and Keeler had a... thing. Now Abel is all confused and doesn't know what he wants.” Cain pursed his lips, trying to think of something else that might be relevant. “That's all I know.”

“So you know fuck all, then.”

“Pretty much.” Cain admitted.

“Well, first off, Abel and Keeler just had a bit of a spat.”

Cain noted that at least that they were fighting behind his back, instead of fucking behind his back. “What... exactly did they say, do you know?”

“Well, Abel didn't say much, besides accuse Keeler of being emotionally unavailable.”

“Emotionally... unavailable...” Cain echoed, unfamiliar with the phrase. “Yeah, I've been trying to work on that myself.”

Encke tore apart a small loaf of bread, gesturing with part of it as he spoke. “Well Keeler is determined to work on it, too. To be _less_ available I mean. He's decided to recuse himself from the situation.”

Cain narrowed his eyes. “You're using an awful lot of big words there, boss.”

“Sorry –- he wants to pull himself out of the fight, basically.”

“He wants to _retreat?!”_ Cain leaned forward in disbelief.

“Basically, yeah.”

Cain gestured dramatically over to where Keeler had been standing, when he'd given Cain the look. “ _That didn't look like a retreat to me._ ”

“Well, you know, sometimes when you're falling back from a fight, you shoot a few more times just for good measure.”

Cain crossed his arms and glanced back over to the invisible Keeler. It couldn't be that simple. He had learned that the beautiful blond was not to be underestimated.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Encke asked. His voice was in that new, mentoring tone he'd had the day before.

Cain pressed a knuckle over his mouth, trying to think back. Was there some kind of lesson that he could apply here? Perhaps their conversation about strategy from yesterday would help him. He couldn't just assume that he was going to win. He would have to be smart. He would have to wait, and let Keeler make a move that he could react to --

But at the same time, there was a more pressing issue. It wouldn't matter if Keeler was in the picture or not. If Cain didn't prove himself to Encke, _really_ prove himself, then he would lose Abel anyway. Keeler was just a diversion. “Let's talk about something else.”

“Oh. Okay,” Encke agreed, still stuffing his face.

“So, you get up every morning at five, yeah?”

“Right...?” Encke narrowed his eyes with uncertainty.

“So... what is it exactly that you do all day? Why do you have to get up so early?”

The Lieutenant leaned back in his chair and let out a hearty chuckle. He looked back at Cain with a challenge in his smile. “How would you like to find out?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Cain**

 

Cain showed up outside Encke's quarters at oh-five-thirty, just as the Lieutenant had told him to. But what he hadn't quite counted on, was that it wouldn't be Encke that answered the door. Cain startled a little when Keeler appeared in the dim light, in his pajamas.

“What are you doing here?” Keeler practically sneered.

“I'm here to see Lieutenant Encke, _sir.”_ Cain tried to answer as cordially as he possibly could, not sure if it was easier or harder due to the sudden sight of the blond officer in pajamas.

“Oh.” Keeler narrowed his eyes, obviously not quite believing it.

“He didn't tell you?”

“No. He's in the shower.”

“Oh.”

“ _Is that Reliant_?” came a voice echoing from the bathroom.

“Yeah.” the blond Lieutenant answered.

“Let him in. I'll be out in a couple minutes,” Encke called out.

Keeler didn't look happy about that at all, but moved out of the door for Cain to enter.

Clearly not welcome, Cain leaned up against the wall, to take up as little space as possible. Keeler just stood there glaring, arms crossed, as if he needed to stand guard over their guest during his stay. Cain steeled himself against the sight of Keeler in his pajamas with his new mantra: _Keeler is not to be underestimated._

He looked Keeler up and down appraisingly. “You got something to say, Lieutenant?”

“No.” But he clearly had a lot to say.

Cain prodded. “You sure--?”

“This is all your fault,” Keeler interrupted before the words could leave Cain's mouth.

“All _my_ fault?!”

“Yes. If you had just _shot_ me during paintball instead of... 'negotiating', then none of this would have happened!”

Cain let those words bounce around in his brain. “Right... _none_ of it would have happened.”

Keeler shook his head, not getting where Cain was going, and not really caring to understand.

“The _thing_ that happened, wouldn't have happened! Is that honestly what you want? All our other differences aside, Keeler... that night... that night was the hottest sex I've ever had!”

Keeler just rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one hip defensively.

“I mean, you can have the rest of it, but can we please preserve the sanctity of the threesome?!”

“' _Preserve_ the sanctity of –-' Tch, why is it that whenever you start sounding philosophical, you're talking about sex?” Keeler interjected.

And Cain knew exactly how to react to this. His mouth curled into a wicked smirk. He slowly sauntered over to Keeler, shaking his black mane like a shaggy lion. He put on his Russian accent so thick that he was practically purring.

“You don't honestly expect me to believe... that you regret...?” He invaded Keeler's space, standing slightly to the right so his voice would tickle his ear. He brushed feather-light fingers through unbraided hair. “When we kissed... And how you leaned into my shoulder... and _whimpered_ as Abel sucked you off...”

Keeler's eyes fluttered closed as he shivered under the Fighter's touch. Cain traced his fingers down to the fabric over Keeler's shoulder, and whispered seductively. “And you so _graciously_ helped me out of my clothes!” He looked sideways to the blond's face. Keeler was biting his lip. “And I whispered all those dirty things in your ear... and held you as Abel _blew your mind?_ Hmm?”

Cain shifted over, to look at Keeler's face straight on. He beckoned Keeler to look at him with a single fingertip under his chin. Then he leaned in, lips parted, just to trick Keeler into leaning in, too. Just to prove he could have kissed him if he wanted to. He did want to, but this was about proving a point. Cain pulled away, shaking his head. “I don't regret that. And you shouldn't regret it either, love.”

The sound of water running in the bathroom suddenly stopped. Cain walked backwards toward the wall, looking Keeler up and down as he did so. “And I can see that you don't.”

The blond was jolted out of his hypnosis then, quickly moving his hands to cover the tent in his shorts, before sitting back down on his bed, and failing to non-chalantly cover his lap with a blanket. Cain just leaned casually against the wall as if nothing had happened, flexing his leg muscles to keep his own arousal at bay.

The door to the bathroom whispered open. “Morning, Reliant.” Encke walked out, already dressed in his uniform. Already looking wide awake.

“Morning, Lieutenant,” Cain answered, and stood up slightly taller, hoping that would suffice in lieu of coming to attention so early in the morning.

Encke looked over at Keeler sitting on the bed. “Well, it's good to know the two of you can be left alone without killing each other.”

Keeler answered with a glare, that suggested perhaps Encke was the one who's life was in danger.

Encke looked back at Cain, sighing quietly before motioning for them to leave. “Let's go.”

 

Cain fell in line behind the Lieutenant at a brisk pace. When they were somewhat down the hallway, Encke murmured over his shoulder, “I hope you made good use of the time I bought you.”

Cain burst into laughter. “Oh, yes sir. I deployed a tactical diversion.”

Encke quickly stifled his own bellow of laughter, looking around as if he could see through the walls, if he'd woken any other officers up.

At the end of the hall, Encke pushed the button on the lift, then turned to Cain. “First will be some weight training, then breakfast, then sims, followed by what I like to call, 'holding court.' Then lunch, then operations meetings in the afternoon, then dinner, then some more physical training.”

“Sounds good, sir.”

“Pfft, no it doesn't,” Encke snorted as they strode into the lift. He leaned against the back wall, so Cain took the one on the side.

“Don't get me wrong about Keeler though,” Encke said, crossing his arms. “He and I are... close.”

Cain raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly _how_ close.

Encke shook his head, as if anticipating Cain's unspoken question. “We've been through a lot together. I care about him. But I've had enough of this. Keeler has a tendency to think, and think, and think about what to do, and then end up not doing anything,” he continued. “Not that I'm trying to break you and Abel up, but somebody has got to do something. Because Keeler isn't happy. And if _Keeler_ isn't happy, then he's going to make both me _and_ Abel miserable.”

“Ah, and then by association, I will also be made miserable,” Cain interjected, wincing at the prospect of both his flight partner/boyfriend and his commanding officer being in as foul a mood as Keeler.

“Yeah. So you understand. It has to be resolved one way or another,” Encke said as the lift came to a stop.

“I'll do my best,” Cain promised, silently repeating his new mantra: _Keeler is not to be underestimated._

 

In the locker room to the fitness area, the two of them changed into their workout clothes. “Back when I was still flying,” Encke said, “I wore my flight suit pretty much all the time. Since I'm calling the shots now, I don't do that any more, but it's still a good practice to get into.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Cain said as he put on a pair of gym shorts, knowing it wasn't really a suggestion.

“What kind of workouts do you normally do?”

“Oh, um...” Cain scratched at his ear, hoping the truthful answer was the right one. “I usually do lots of repetitions of smaller weights? ... and I do some of the martial arts sims downstairs.”

“Good,” Encke replied, and Cain was surprised how pleased it made him to have Encke's approval. “It's good that you understand that bigger muscles aren't necessarily better. And the fighting sims are good because they help with your reaction time. Obviously all the muscle in the world isn't going to help you when you're shooting guns in a spaceship.”

“Heh, very true.” Cain followed as Encke walked into the weight room. “So... what kind of exercise does Keeler do, huh?”

“Yoga.”

“Yogurts?”

“Yoga. It's like, about stretching and balance and finding inner peace and stuff.”

“Well that sounds like a bunch of --”

(RED ALERT. RED ALERT. INCOMING ENEMY ATTACK.)

“Shit!” Cain exclaimed and spun on his heels to run out of the weight room.

(REPORT TO BATTLE STATIONS. RED ALERT. INCOMING ENEMY ATTACK.)

Encke was right on his heels. “Yeah, well. We could sure use some inner peace right now.”

“Haha, I guess we won't be having that quiet breakfast date,” Cain called over his shoulder, his empty stomach paining him as he ran.

“Hey, if you wanted to cancel, Reliant, you could have just called. You didn't have to be a pussy and get the Colterons to do it for you.”

“'I would ask for a rain check, baby, but it doesn't rain in space,'” Cain quoted a popular nonsensical rejection joke of the times.

“...That's Lieutenant Baby to you.”


	18. Chapter 18

 

 

**Abel**

 

“There they are!”

Abel jerked at the controls of the Reliant to abruptly swerve the fighter upside-down and to the left.

“ _Guh--”_ Cain's choked voice came over the intercom. _“Abel... you're killing me here._ ”

But Abel couldn't think about that now. He had to catch up to the Colterons this time, he just had to. He pushed the thrusters as high as he could take them. He completely ignored the rattling panels that told him he was going too fast, focusing only on the cluster of enemy ships already engaged with several Starfighters up ahead. “Get ready, Cain, we're almost in range,” Abel said, taking the speed of the ship down in increments so that Cain would have plenty of time to unload on their targets as they flew past.

But then as fast as the Colteron ships had appeared, they made an about-face and jetted out of range. But not before they had destroyed another two Starfighters.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Abel could hear Cain's fists slamming against something inside of his compartment. “ _We lost them again!_ ”

“Cain! Shoot faster!” Abel barked in irritation.

“ _Well maybe if you got us in range faster then I could shoot something!_ ”

“Well maybe if you shot from further away then we would get in range quicker!” Abel shouted, a little louder than he'd meant to. The pressure was starting to get to him. He looked at the clock. His heart leaped impossibly harder in his chest. They'd been at this for hours, he realized. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs. His skin was covered in cold sweat. He was on the verge of panic.

 _“Okay, baby, just calm down.”_ Cain must have been able to hear his ragged breathing over the intercom. _“Obviously they don't want us to shoot at them today,”_ he said in an attempt to be optimistic.

“They never _want_ us to shoot at them,” Abel growled in annoyance. He wasn't a big fan of Cain calling him by pet names while they were on duty, even if it did make him feel slightly better. He moved the Reliant back into the defensive formation the Red Team was flying in, between attacks.

( _This is CC to the ship Reliant. Disengage and report to Lieutenants Encke and Keeler in hangar bay Delta._ )

“What?! They're pulling us out of the sky?!” Abel exclaimed with a shriek, so that only Cain could hear him.

“ _Ow, not so loud._ ”

“But why?! That's doesn't make any fucking sense!” Abel seldom swore, but this command was a direct hit to his already-faltering mental stability. Both he and Cain knew they were two of the best. The Sleipnir surely needed them now, more than ever.

( _Reliant, do you copy?_ )

“ _Doesn't matter, it's a direct order. We have to go,_ ” Cain said, sounding somewhat defeated, like they were all dead already.

“Aye, sir. On our way to the hangar bay now,” Abel answered, trying to keep the frustration and the foul words out of his voice while on the comm.

 

Cain stood waiting on the ground, as Abel descended the ladder on the side of the Reliant. “That was some landing,” he said sarcastically, rubbing at his neck with one hand, and holding his helmet to his side with the other arm.

Abel strode right past him, taking off his helmet as he walked. “We're lucky we got back to the hangar at all, with that damage to the wing,” he said over his shoulder, then turned to their maintenance crew. “Hey!” he shouted. “Do something about that starboard wing! Do everything you can to make her sky-worthy again; we need to be back out there A-SAP!”

“Take it easy, Abel,” Cain said softly behind him. “It's not the maintenance guys that ordered us to land. Don't take it out on them!”

Abel spun on his heels, only giving Cain an efficient glare as he marched over to where the two Lieutenants were waiting for them. He didn't have time to argue with Cain. He had to get back in the sky. He snapped to attention and felt his Fighter do the same beside him. “Personnel from the ship Reliant reporting in _as ordered_ , sir,” Abel said tersely.

Keeler seemed to be in a bit of a daze, but the tone in Abel's voice got his attention. He looked over at Abel and furrowed his brow in concern.

If Encke heard the attitude in Abel's voice, he only acknowledged it with an unreadable weariness in his eyes. “At ease. Follow me,” he said flatly. “We're going to the war room.” He turned around and headed down the corridor with Keeler beside him.

As they followed down the hallway, Abel glanced over at Cain, who was walking to his right. 

Cain looked back and shrugged, as if to answer some unasked question. He didn't know what this was about either. Abel turned to look straight ahead, trying to organize his thoughts. The war room was usually for officers and their assistants only. Why were they being taken there?

There was a loud booming sound, and the floor vibrated beneath them as the ship took a direct hit from a missile. A warm hand suddenly interlocked with his, squeezed reassuringly, and then let go almost as suddenly. It was over so quick that Abel thought he might have imagined it, if not for the feeling of coldness left behind. He glanced over at Cain, but saw no indication on his face that anything had happened.

He knew that Cain was just trying to help, just trying to calm him down, but it only served to make Abel more agitated. They were in danger, _Cain_ was in danger, and they weren't in the Reliant fighting it, and he had no idea why.

Encke stopped in front of a door, and entered a keycode before swiping his badge across a reader. The door opened, and he motioned for the two junior personnel to enter first.

The war room wasn't very large, but the space was used economically. Several cabinets of weapons were installed inside of the steel-reinforced walls. There were several computer stations, and a circular holographic table in the middle, surrounded with chairs. Each chair had its own computer in front of it, so the presiding officers could work independently as they met together. But Keeler and Encke were currently the only officers on the ship.

“Sirs,” Abel blurted out, trying and failing to be respectful. “Do you mind explaining what this is about? Why the f--” he very quickly corrected himself. “Why did you pull us out of the fight?”

“Because four heads are better than two. Sit down,” Encke commanded, gesturing for them to be seated at the table in the center of the room. “Cain's still technically shadowing me today anyway.”

“Shadowing?!” Abel exclaimed before he could stop himself.

“Leave it, Abel. I'll explain later.” Cain muttered.

Abel sat at one of the computer stations attached to the table. Encke sat across from him, and Keeler took the seat to his right. Finally, Cain took the seat to his left, nearest the door.

“Alright,” Encke began. “As you know by now, the Colterons are employing a hit-and-run strategy. Computer, play back the scans from the past three hours.”

The hologram in the middle of the table came to life, with a three-dimensional image of the Sleipnir in the middle, surrounded by tiny vessels of both Federation and Colteron make. As the time lapse repeated itself over and over again, the image rotated, so each person got a different view of it every time.

Keeler's eyes were darting back and forth between his computer screen and the hologram, his fingers typing at keys furiously. Finally he stopped to give his analysis. “Their formations have been different every time. They've come in from a different direction every time. We've never seen them use a strategy like this before.”

“What are they trying to do?” Abel wondered aloud.

“What they're trying to do,” Encke answered, “is wear us out. Corrode at our resolve. Frustrate us so we don't think straight. We could be at this for days if we don't figure out what to do to stop them.”

Encke's words hung heavy in the air. Abel's knowledge of military history came flooding back to him. “We're under siege,” he said quietly.

“Yes. That's why you two geniuses are here and not in the air. We need some extra brain power if we're going to nip this in the bud quickly,” Encke explained gruffly.

Abel looked over to Cain, who was deep in thought, eyes fixed intensely on the hologram in front of them, his fingers worrying at his mouth like they did when he needed a smoke.

Abel pondered as he looked back at the recording of the enemy fighters, darting in and out of view. “Well, couldn't we just go after them? Take some of our fastest ships and see where they're going?” Abel left out the part about how his ship was the fastest ship.

“We thought about that,” Keeler said. “But it could very well be a trap. We would have no idea what we were flying into. The bulk of their forces is out of range of our scanners.”

As Abel continued studying the hologram, he noticed that a red dot appeared every time an Alliance fighter was destroyed, and a green dot appeared for every Colteron shot down. There were quite a few red dots, and hardly any green ones. “Well then how do we fight an enemy that doesn't want to fight?” he asked in earnest.

“We don't,” Cain answered. All three of the others turned to look at him. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd sat down.

Cain shifted in his seat nervously before continuing. “You say they've never used a strategy like this before?” He looked across at Keeler.

“Not according to any of our records from previous battles,” Keeler explained.

“Well, they wouldn't try something new just for the fuck of it,” Cain insisted, rubbing at his chin, and watching the recording. “What if... they're not trying to wear us out at all? What if they're trying to piss us off... to keep us busy?”

Abel watched as Cain turned to Encke, as if this was something that only Fighters would understand. “What if this is just a _diversion_?” he said to the Lieutenant, voice laden with excitement, and the gravity of the implications of his theory.

“I'll check the scanners again for anything unusual,” Abel said quickly, going to work on the computer in front of him.

“Yes,” Keeler responded, as he turned his attention to his own station. “Put them at maximum range.”

“I'll send a message to Command, recommending they put everyone on high alert,” Encke stated. “This could be much bigger than just us.”

Then everyone fell silent, three of them working furiously at their stations, and Cain just sitting there, nervously watching Abel and waiting for his results.

Abel did as Keeler had instructed, pushing the ship's scanners out to maximum range, knowing even as he did so, that the further out he went, the bigger something would have to be for him to see it. “I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary.”

“Keep looking,” Keeler commanded, never looking away from his screen.

“Aye, sir,” Abel answered out of reflex, only taking half of a second to think about how ridiculous it was to be so formal, when he had actually been naked and on top of and _inside_ of Keeler, before going back to his task. He thought over everything they had talked about. There had to be some sort of clue that would help him figure it out... that would make it so those red dots would stop appearing on the hologram. That would make the floor beneath them stop intermittently quaking.

He looked over at Cain, and then over at Keeler, and then an idea popped into his mind. It was purely gut instinct. He changed the controls on the scanners, taking them down to the smallest range that the computer would allow.

A shiver ran down his spine, all of his veins turning to ice as his brain processed the results.

“Shit!”

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

 

 

**Abel**

“Shit!”

Abel stared down at the screen, trying not to see what he was seeing, willing the images to change, and give him some different interpretation than the one he knew was correct.

“What is it Abel?” Keeler pleaded with him impatiently. Abel knew they didn't have time, but everything in his brain was going in slow motion.

“It...” His voice was sticking inside of his throat. “It appears that five small vessels have... attached themselves to the bottom of the ship.”

He looked up at Keeler then, the two of them just staring at each other, frozen.

“That's impossible. Why wouldn't we have seen them before?” Encke scoffed.

“They're so small...and there's no power readings...” Abel explained apologetically. “And they're attached to the ship... I only found them by taking the scanners down to minimum range.”

“Huh. Apparently the 'Terons have seen Star Wars,” Keeler muttered, already going back to his furious typing at his computer, but seeming a bit more purposeful than he did before.

“You said 'vessels'? Are they fighter ships?” Encke asked quickly.

“No...” Abel looked back down at his screen, zooming in on the anomalies on the bottom of the ship. “They're really only large enough for one man... err... Colteron to fit inside.” Suddenly the picture started turning into static, before finally disappearing completely. “Whoa, something's happening to the scanners--”

“I changed them to look for life forms,” Keeler blurted out, typing for a few more seconds before looking up. “They're inside the ship. They must have punched through the hull somehow.”

“A boarding party?” Abel said quietly. This had never happened before, the whole time he'd been in the fleet. The Colterons wanted to _exterminate_ humans, not... well, what did they want to do?

Cain stood up abruptly, stomping over to one of the glass cabinets that were inside of the steel walls. As Abel watched, he started rummaging through the armor and weapons and ammunition.

“There's about five of them. It looks like they're just hanging out on level R,” Keeler was saying in the meantime.

“We need to put the whole ship on lockdown,” Encke said, urgency putting a tremor in his voice.

“Wait!” Keeler interrupted. “If they know, that we know they're here... things could just get worse. Whatever it is they're here to do, they have to think their mission has a chance of being successful. We have to destroy the Colteron boarding party before they have a chance to communicate back to the hive.”

“Keeler's right,” Cain said from across the room. “They must have planned this whole thing just to get in under our noses.”

“Maybe there's something on the ship that they want. And that's why they're holding back,” Abel offered.

“Well, what is it?” Encke shrugged.

“Why don't we go find out?” Cain answered, striding over to Abel with a gun and a holster in his hands. He handed the holster to Abel first, then fidgeted with the gun to make sure the safety was on, before handing that to Abel, too.

“You –- you want us to go?” Abel stammered, just holding the items out in front of him, not sure if he wanted to accept them at all.

“You would send somebody else?” Cain said matter-of-factly, a determined look in his eye as he met Abel's gaze. “There's four sets of equipment. Two for Fighters, and two for Navi's. I say we take them and go kill those sons of bitches.”

“Cain, those items are supposed to stay in this room,” Keeler scolded. “This room is a point of last defense for the officers if the ship is taken.”

"Well unfortunately I'm not an officer and neither are most of my friends,” Cain spat accusingly at Keeler. “You know what's on level R."

“Yes,” Keeler said, voice suddenly quite small.

“Then you know if we lose level R, we're _all_ dead. We won't have air, we won't have water, and we won't have power.”

That wasn't even the whole list of things they wouldn't have, Abel thought.

Encke stood up, going over to one of the cabinets and opening it up, ending the discussion right there. “What about our boys in the air? What do they do in the meantime? We're losing a lot of ships,” he said as he started going through the equipment.

Keeler cleared his throat, recovering from losing the argument with Cain. “We have a portable comm we can take with us.”

“Shouldn't we... call for reinforcements or something?” Abel asked, wincing at the prospect that they would be needed.

“And what do we do until they get here?” Encke asked, facing back into the room with a large blaster rifle in his hands. It was about as long as one of his legs and definitely wider.

“Like I said, don't fight them,” Cain answered. He was loading up a black vest with extra ammunition and what looked like grenades. “Make them wear themselves out chasing after us for a while.”

“Keeler?” Encke looked over to his Navigator and nodded.

Keeler took a deep breath and spoke into the comm. “This is CC to all ships. New orders are as follows. All ships are to to avoid engaging with the enemy until further notice. Take evasive action to stay out of their range of fire. Do not pursue. Repeat. Do not pursue.”

Then the three of them finished preparing, silently and as quickly as they could. Abel found a small portable scanner that he could take to look for enemies. Cain came over to him with a protective vest, opening it up for Abel to put his arms through.

“You're gonna be okay. I'll keep you safe,” Cain said as he fastened the buckles tight, echoing a previous conversation that seemed too long ago. Abel could see the look in his eyes, could see what he wanted to say. And Abel found himself praying that he wouldn't, because he still wasn't sure if he could say it back. He only knew that the idea of hurting Cain struck him with a fear, deeper even than his fear of the intruders downstairs.

“Okay. Let's move out,” Encke declared. “Cain, you're taking point. I have to stay back and help with the comm.”

Cain just set his jaw and nodded at Encke, giving one last look of longing to Abel before he picked up his scattergun and walked out of the room.

Abel walked alongside Keeler, who had a blaster pistol on each hip, and a backpack full of medical supplies on his back. He glanced over, catching Abel staring at him as they walked. There was so much hurt in his eyes, Abel couldn't help but move closer and reach out for Keeler's hand.

Keeler squeezed as soon as their fingers laced together. He tried to empathize with what Keeler was going through. All of those little red dots he'd seen in the hologram... those were people. Men that had been lost under Keeler and Encke's command, while they tried to figure out how to stop the chaos.

The floor underneath them shook and rattled as two more missiles smashed into the ship's shields. Crewmen were running back and forth through the corridor around the group of four, as they made their way to the lift.

Abel looked down at the gun on his hip, wishing that he'd practiced more, like he promised himself he'd do, after their game of Paintball. But he hadn't, because the shooting range was down in the Fighter's Den. And he was scared to go down there by himself. Abel asked himself if he was more scared of the Fighters than the Colterons. When all this was over, he was going to have to sit down and do a lot of re-prioritizing.

“And the three of you better get along,” Encke said suddenly from in front of them. “That's an order. If something doesn't go right because the three of you were bickering amongst yourselves, then I now officially have the right to throw you in the brig for insubordination,” he said, as the four of them strode into the lift. Abel just mentally filed the fact that Encke knew about the three of them away for later. Much later.

Once they were all inside, Cain pushed the button that would take them to level R. Another missile hit the ship as the lift started to move. Abel's heart leaped in his chest as the bright lights above them buzzed and flickered, which meant power was being stolen from the lights and re-routed to the shields.

“Tell me about level R again?” Encke asked.

“It's the second lowest level,” Keeler answered. “Nobody ever goes down to R and S except for maintenance and engineering. It's where the main generators are kept, and water treatment... the gravity engines... the networks servers... air conditioning... ”

“But...” Abel started. “Colterons don't care anything about human technology, do they?”

“They haven't seemed to before now,” Keeler shrugged.

“Are they planning on disabling our systems?” Abel wondered aloud.

“If they somehow disable any of those things, then we're fucked,” Encke said gravely.

“Huh, no shit.” Cain scoffed. “Seems like a lot of trouble they've gone to, if they just want to turn out the lights. Did the Alliance not pay the bill or what?” he joked, causing Keeler to roll his eyes.

“I can use the scanner once we get down there, to see exactly where they are,” Abel said, just happy that he could be helpful. “We shouldn't make assumptions until then.”

“Shh,” Encke put his hand up to his ear to show that he was getting a message. “The fighters are getting restless," he said, before answering the message. "I know. You just gotta let them chase you for now,” he said into the comm. “Don't shoot at them until you can see the whites of their eyes. Or-- you know what I mean.”

“As for us,” Cain said flatly, “You Navi's stay behind us. Shoot at anything shooting at you,” he finished just as the door opened on level R.

 

 

**Cain**

 

Cain marched out of the elevator, going down on one knee on the right wall that opened to the main corridors. Gun at the ready, he peeked around the corner, towards the large wall labeled "Water Treatment A" in big blue letters. He had to be as alert as possible, but it was hard. The corridor was dark, and the humming and rattling of too many machines made it hard to pick out any suspicious sounds. He looked down the other side of the hall, which had a wall labeled "Air Conversion - CO2 to O2". He looked straight ahead with eagle eyes then, all the way down to the other end of the ship, before waving the rest of the team forward.

Encke knelt beside him on the other side, with his huge blaster. The two Navigators hugged the walls behind them. Keeler behind Encke, which mean Abel was behind him. Not taking his eyes off the corridors, he whispered back to Abel. “Anything on the scanner?”

There were a few heartbeats full of silence before Abel gave his quiet answer. “They're in the corner to the left. It looks like they're... in the server room.”

Cain looked over at Keeler and then Encke. They looked just as confused as he did. “Let me see,” he said to Abel, reaching behind with the hand that wasn't on the trigger of his gun.

The device dropped into his hand, and he pulled it up to his face to look at it. There were five red dots on the screen. “Why is this dot in the middle so much brighter than the others?” he asked quietly.

“Um... I'm not sure. It's partially based on heat. It –- it could be a human,” Abel whispered.

“Shit,” Encke said quietly across the way, shaking his head low.

So the 'Terons had taken a hostage. Fucking perfect. “Okay. Here's what we're gonna do,” Cain stood up, fairly certain there was no immediate danger, beckoning the officers over to where he and Abel were on the wall.

He pointed to Abel's scanner. “We split up. Two of us go left,” he pointed to the corridors as he spoke. “Two of us go straight. One team will go in to their smell range and draw their fire, allowing the other team to go in and get the hostage.”

“Hostage?” Abel asked in disbelief. “Cain, there were five vessels. Five vessels and five life forms are down here.”

Cain looked over at him, trying to understand. Was he really suggesting it could be a human enemy? “We need to have a plan for getting him out in case he's friendly,” he argued. He looked at the two officers, hoping they would back him up.

“The math doesn't add up,” Keeler whispered, looking at the scanner. “But I don't know what else we can do besides assume it's a human hostage.”

“Okay,” Cain nodded, looking at the other three men. He had to decide now, who to team up with who.

“Keeler,” Encke grunted, holding his hand to his ear again, listening to the radio.

The two of them talked amongst themselves, deciding orders for the rest of the fleet, while Cain mulled over his decision. He knew what he wanted to do, but having Abel with him would be a distraction. He had to concentrate on doing his job, or they were all dead. And he couldn't take Encke, and leave the two Navi's by themselves... but having Keeler with him would be a distraction, too. He looked at Abel again, taking a deep breath. He couldn't do what was best for him, he had to do what was best for the group. For the whole ship.

“Okay,” Cain said when the others fell silent. “We'll split up the officers. Keeler's with me. We'll be the bait. Encke, you and Abel go in once you hear gunfire, and get that guy out of there. Or shoot him in the face, depending.”

Thankfully Abel didn't argue, though he was rather stone-faced about Cain's orders. But Cain didn't have any time to explain his reasoning. They had lost so much time already.

Keeler on the other hand, looked positively thrilled to be teamed with Cain, as was evident by his rather unattractive scowl. Cain didn't have time to deal with that, either. “Come on, Keeler,” he said, starting down the corridor, leaving no room for argument and not looking behind to see if he followed.

It wasn't until he'd walked quite a ways that he realized he hadn't even said goodbye to Abel.

Cain stopped and spun around. He only saw a flash of white as Abel disappeared around the corner, with the scanner in one hand and the pistol in the other.

“What?” Keeler whispered impatiently, pointing his two blasters up at the ceiling. Apparently he'd been following after all.

“Nothing,” Cain muttered, looking down at the ground as he turned and started marching down the hallway again.

 

Eventually they came to an intersection of the corridors. Cain put a hand up, motioning for Keeler to stop. He repeated his earlier routine, kneeling at the left side of the hallway this time, and peeking around for anything out of place.

He jerked his head back suddenly, as he saw a figure quite a ways down the hall.

“What, what is it?” Keeler whispered behind him.

“Shh!!” Cain said, and slowly leaned back out to look at the figure again.

A lone Colteron, guarding one of the doorways to the server room. Standing two feet taller than a man, they were always described as being something like giant praying mantises whenever humans talked about them. But Cain had never seen a mantis, and wasn't a big fan of praying. The Colteron had a black exoskeleton, and underneath, its muscles and innards pulsed with blue light. The creatures were equal parts beautiful and horrifying. It was theorized that the glowing color had something to do with which units they were in, since they didn't have uniforms, but no one had quite figured that part out yet.

Most importantly to Cain, the bug had a gun, and some friends, and maybe a hostage.

Trying to ignore his goosebumps, Cain slowly moved back away from the corner, standing up and looking at Keeler, whose eyes were big as saucers, even though he hadn't been the one to see the giant bug.

“There's one down there,” Cain whispered. “We're going further this way so we have to be quick about it.”

“Is it close enough to smell us?” Keeler asked frantically.

“No, no I don't think so,” Cain answered, just glad that Keeler's irritable mood had been replaced by somewhat endearing fear. He turned the knob on his scattergun to give it a more narrow array, just in case he did have to shoot at the one target.

“Okay. I'm ready,” Keeler said, nodding with determination, still pointing his pistols up high.

“Okay. I'll go first. Stay low,” Cain reminded him, emphasizing it with a hand gesture.

Keeler nodded quickly to show he understood, eyes wide as he watched Cain turn around.

Cain leaned around the corner again, looking one more time before he dashed across the intersection, hunching down as low as he could without losing speed. He hugged the wall tight as soon as he was across. Then he held out a hand, motioning for Keeler to wait.

Cain tried to imagine going through this same ordeal with Abel. He just had to hope that what he and Keeler were going through was worse than the other team's situation. He peeked over to the Colteron, who was still standing by the door, still glowing blue on the inside. Cain had to assume that was a good sign.He moved back to make room for Keeler on the wall and motioned him across.

They hurried the rest of the way down the hall, coming to another intersection which included the lift opposite the one they'd come down in. Cain peeked over, to see another Colteron. This one was glowing orange underneath its black shell, whatever that meant.

“Okay. There's another one down the way,” Cain whispered to Keeler. “We're gonna get his attention first probably. As soon as we do, just move back to this spot.”

“Okay,” Keeler agreed, seeming glad to let Cain give the orders for once.

“Hey. You gonna be okay?” Cain murmured encouragingly.

“Cain stop hitting on me and go,” Keeler said, his voice cracking with some emotion that might have been annoyance or fear or grief.

“I'm not--! Ugh... whatever,” Cain said, and turned around the corner.

 

 

**Abel**

"Okay," Encke said as he stopped at a corner. "We'll wait here for the signal." He failed to mention that the signal would be Cain and Keeler getting shot at.

"Can you see anything?" Abel whispered.

"Uh, yeah. There's one down there guarding one of the doors," Encke said, peeking around the corner.

"I... I've never seen a Colteron in person before," Abel admitted.

"Trust me, you don't want to. But you're about to," Encke said with what Abel assumed was sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Can I take a look?" 

"Um, sure," Encke complied, switching places with him on the wall. Abel took a quick peek. The creature was insanely tall, black with yellow-green light pulsing on the inside. 

He looked back at Encke with huge eyes. The Fighter was holding his hand to his ear again. 

"Cain's strategy is working. We haven't lost any more ships," he said quietly.

“ _HrHrHrHrHrHrHr!!!!”_

“What's that sound?” Abel whispered frantically to Encke, as the Fighter moved protectively in front of him. 

“That's how they talk to each other. It's found Cain and Keeler.” Encke said gravely, looking around the corner.

“Oh god,” Abel murmured, trying to focus on what they were about to do, and not the fact that two of his lovers were in harm's way.

“Let's go,” Encke said, motioning for Abel to follow him, his huge blaster rifle in hand.

As they ran down the corridor, another bug, this one orange on the inside, flew across their path and out of sight.

"Aren't they -- all supposed to be -- the same color?!" Abel called out as he ran.

"Don't know. Don't care," Encke said over his shoulder, just as they heard a small explosion from around the corner where the two 'Terons had just gone.

Abel jumped at the noise, and just had to hope that it was one of Cain's grenades. "Only two of them went after Cain and Keeler! Why didn't the rest of them go?"

Encke slowed down to a march, holding his gun at the ready as they neared the server room. "Well, it's probably better this way, it'll be a more even fight."

The next one they saw, was jet black with blue light on the inside, standing outside the door.

“HrHrHr! HrHrHr! KhrHrHr!” it said, as it started shooting at them.

Encke fired a rapid volley of energy bolts at the giant bug as it lifted up into the air, ignoring the return fire which was absorbed by his suit. The Colteron quickly fell lifeless on the ground.

“Run over to the door, I'll cover you!” Encke shouted, motioning towards the server room.

Abel quickly complied, sprinting over to the door and reaching it just as it opened, revealing another giant insect, gun pointed straight at him. Abel aimed, and fired at the creature's head, just as the creature fired its weapon at him.

 

 

 

**Cain**

“HrHrHrHrHrHrHr!!!!”

Suddenly, a crazy sort of grunting, clicking sound started echoing through the metal chambers. They had gotten about two thirds of the way down the wall, before they got the Colterons' attention. And it wasn't even the one that Cain could see, it was one around the corner.

Colterons often sensed their opponents before they could see them, and the theory was that they had excellent senses of smell. But human scientists hadn't spent a whole lot of time, trying to understand the creatures' biology when alive. They mostly wanted to figure out how to make them not that way.

Which was why Cain had a grenade full of gas that would weaken their exoskeletons. He threw the grenade in between the two giant bugs.

“Shit!” Keeler said behind him, clinging to Cain's back at the small explosion. 

“Here, just...just stand next to me and shoot stuff,” Cain said, reaching his arm behind him to position Keeler, without taking his eyes away from the direction of the sound.

“HrHrHrHr -– KhrHrHrHr –- Hr,” the black and orange one said, propping out its four wings and turning to face the two humans. Just then, another one appeared around the corner, its wings making a loud buzzing sound. This one's underglow was a yellow-green. It flew low to the ground, pointing its weapon.

Cain fired two shots with his scattergun at the yellow-green one, watching the balls of white sparks singe their target, then quickly adjusting the settings on the gun to make it burn hotter. “Move BACK!” he called out, and he and Keeler started walking backwards towards the corner, taking more shots at the giant flying bugs as they went.

As the 'Terons got closer, Cain could feel the wind from their wings start to blow on his hair, the vibrations almost rattling his bones. He ducked down just as one of them shot a blast of energy at him, evading it just in time.

“Ahck!” Keeler cried out as a blast of energy hit him, and was dispelled through his flight suit, little blue sparks trailing everywhere. Luckily they were made for just that function, but Keeler was being careless.

“Fuck! Watch it, Keeler! Get behind the corner!” Cain shouted at him, focusing on trying to shoot off the orange one's head as he moved backwards, so he wouldn't have to worry about it going after his ally.

Keeler landed a good shot, taking out one of its eyes, and then Cain finished the job, causing the alien's body to fall to the ground in a heap, but unfortunately, he'd taken his attention away from his other opponent.

“Guh!” He didn't remember until it was a second too late, the giant insect knocking Cain to the ground with its feet and the force of its wings. Then it landed over him, still holding the gun in one appendage as it raised its sharp claw up, as if to stab him in the chest –-

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Cain fired two blasts into the bug's stomach, causing it to reel back, and raise up its claws menacingly. It flinched to the side as Keeler unloaded a series of energy bolts at it, and then walked over, kicking the thing in the abdomen and off of Cain.

“Finish it!” Keeler called out, stepping out of the way and distracting the 'Teron with more bolts.

Bzzzt!

And with that, the creature was dead, falling in a lump on the floor like a marionette with no puppeteer. The yellow green underneath slowly faded away until the creature was just black.

“Thanks, man,” Cain said to Keeler as he got to his feet. He looked up, and noticed that Keeler had gotten some bug guts in his hair. He walked over, and reached out his hand to get it out.

“You're welc-- Stop that,” Keeler snapped at him suddenly, slapping his hand away.

Cain took a step back, realizing what Keeler thought he was doing. Not that he could really blame him, after what had happened that morning. Cain decided not to correct his assumption and just left the bug guts in his hair. “You're right. No time for victory kissing right now, let's go catch up to the others.”

“Victory kissing?” Keeler sneered as he followed behind him.

“Well, I usually do victory fucking, actually... but that seems a bit premature,” Cain said with a wicked grin that the blond couldn't see.

“Ugh!” Keeler huffed in disapproval.

“What, shooting at stuff and getting smacked around by giant bugs doesn't turn you on?” Cain asked, feigning ignorance.

“Wha-? You are seriously sick.”

 

 

**Abel**

 

Gzz!-ssssssssss

“Aaaaaaaahh!!!!” Abel reeled back as the ammunition hit him, burning holes right through his vest and through his flight suit and to his skin underneath, making his chest and his arm feel like they were on fire. But then Encke was shooting at the creature from behind him, distracting it enough to let Abel pull himself together and get out of the way. The wound burned like hell, but the pain was starting to lessen, probably from shock. He quickly moved into the door just before it closed, shutting the sounds of Encke fighting the Colteron away.

The server room was cold... quiet... full of deep blue light, so that most everything in the room seemed black. Rows and rows and rows of the servers that housed the ship's internal networks, facilitating everything from casual emails between shipmates to data transfers between decks during a battle like this one. And there, in the middle of it all, on the floor with a laptop in his lap, was a man, typing away without a care. Completely ignoring the killing and shooting around him.

Abel cautiously approached, his pistol at hand in case he needed it. “Um, hello?”

The stranger didn't answer, just kept typing away at incredible speeds.

“Uh, what's your task name, please?” Abel asked politely. Still there was no answer, so Abel quickly tried a different approach. “Hey! I'm talking to you!”

The man continued to type as Abel stood over him, until finally he very deliberately hit the Enter key and stopped. The screen lit up with the words, “Data transfer initiated.”

“What? No! Stop that!” Abel said, completely at a loss as to what was happening, how this man could be with the Colterons, how Abel could be reading the screen if that was the case -- The man finally turned to face him, a blank expression on his face.

Abel pointed the gun at the man, taking a step back even as he did so. His breath was knocked out of him as he saw the man's eyes were not eyes at all, but just two glowing orbs of purple light. The man slowly stood up and started walking towards him.

He didn't have time to ask questions, he just had to act. He fired one shot at the man, and then fired several shots at the laptop that had been left on the floor, hoping that would stop the transaction of data, wherever it was going. And then, he was tackled to the ground.

“Gah!” he cried out as the stranger grabbed him by his burned shoulder, pinning him to the ground. Silently, even more silent than Deimos, the man reached up to put his hands around Abel's neck.

Abel struggled, trying to twist free of the man's hold, finally managing to point his pistol at the man's stomach and pull the trigger, sending the man rolling off of him and onto the floor just as Encke came through the door behind him.

Running on adrenaline now, Abel fired three more shots at the wounded man's chest as he tried to get up again. The stranger didn't move after that, only took shallow breaths, blinking his purple-lit eyes.

“You alright?!” Encke said as he ran up to Abel, kneeling down beside him.

“Yeah, yeah, but...” Abel faltered, unable to take his eyes off the strange man. He crawled over and surveyed the damage that he'd done. As much blood as there was spilling on the ground, it was clear the man was about to die.

“You're –- what are you?” Abel managed to say, trying to be insistent about it.

“We... See... You...” was the only reply he got, before the stranger's eyes darkened from purple to black.

“What the fuck!” Encke breathed behind him, just as the door opened on the other side, and Cain and Keeler came rushing in.

“Abel!!!” Keeler shouted, running over to him and pulling the medic's backpack off his shoulders. “What happened?!”

“I... don't know. It burns,” Abel admitted, still not taking his eyes off of the dead man in front of him. The first life that he'd ever taken, at least directly, and he wasn't even sure what he'd killed.

“Here, unzip your suit so I can look at it,” Keeler said in a hurry. Meanwhile Encke was back on the radio, instructing the fleet.

Abel looked up at Cain, who was standing there, worried eyes darting between Abel and the dead stranger. He could feel himself blush a bit as Keeler pulled the flight suit off to tend to his wounds.

“These scratches on your back? Did they do this too?” Keeler asked frantically as he applied a soothing salve to Abel's burns.

“Um...” Abel felt himself blush even more, remembering the other night. “No,” was all he said in response, not even daring to indict Cain by looking at him.

“Well where did those come from?”

But luckily Abel knew there was a much more important topic to discuss. “Keeler -- this guy. He...” he stopped as he looked over, and noticed some black slime in Keeler's hair.

“What is it?” Keeler asked with some concern.

“I think... he was a Colteron,” Abel declared.

“No...” Keeler said, his hand stopping in place on Abel's arm as he stared at the man. “Wait... I know him,” he muttered.

“He was hacking into the network!" Abel exclaimed, pointing at the steaming laptop. "He attacked me! His eyes were lit up -- Like the 'Terons are on the inside.”

“Its... ENCKE!” Keeler shrieked for his partner frantically, before clapping a hand over his mouth.

Abel looked at Keeler, who was white as a sheet, and then behind him to Cain, and then back to the man.

“What, what is it?” Encke asked with alarm, as he ran back up to them.

“This man. Do you recognize him?” Keeler asked insistently, timidly pointing at the corpse with the solid black eyes.

Encke took a hard look, until finally his features melted into dread. “That's Halley!”

“Yeah,” Keeler concurred, voice trembling.

“Shit.” Encke repeated his earlier commentary.

“Halley? Who –- who's that?” Abel asked, craning his head, not sure whether to look at Keeler or Encke for the answer.

“He was a Navigator, that was stationed on this ship about a year ago,” Keeler said, trying and failing to keep the emotion out of his voice. “He was captured by the Colterons, and presumed dead.”

Abel suddenly felt very cold. He sat there in silence trying to process all of this new information. This man had been captured by the enemy and... turned into one of them?

“Along with three others,” Keeler added very quietly.

“Fuck,” Cain finally spoke up. "So there might be more somewhere?"

Keeler didn't say anything else, just stared down at the ground, sitting on his knees, looking utterly lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaaaaahhhhh this took forever and I guess you can probably tell why. I posted a map of this chapter on my tumblr if you wanna take this url. I don't know how to link things.
> 
> http://noirakai.tumblr.com/post/54844018051/also-behind-a-cut-is-a-map-to-this-chapter-for


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: "Round and Round" by Imagine Dragons

**Cain**

 

“Okay, Praxis. On three. One... two... THREE --”

Cain and Praxis strained as they hoisted the replacement thruster up above their heads, being careful not to crush any wiring as they got it into position, lining up the holes so that Deimos could quickly screw it in from the top of the Starfighter wing.

“Steady...” With all his strength, Cain braced himself against the tickling feeling in his gloves from the buzz of the screwgun, and the pungent aroma that told him his face was too close to his and Praxis's sweaty armpits.

“Done,” came a quiet voice from above them.

Both the Fighters below wiggled the thruster, testing its secure attachment to the wing before letting their arms drop down completely.

“Okay stand back!” Cain barked, backing quickly away from the wing as he did so, keeping his eye on it for any sign something was going to go wrong. “Give it a go, Phobz!”

_Khhhhhhhhhhhh_

As hoped, the thruster burst into life, a blinding blue, almost white light, which disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Cain startled a little as a thickly-gloved hand clapped down and then patted his shoulder. “Well what do you know,” Praxis said. “We're actually good for something besides shooting things!”

He looked over at Praxis's hand, and then up at his face, raising an eyebrow as if to question whether they were quite at the casual-touching stage just yet. Praxis slowly extricated his hand from Cain's vicinity.

“Yeah, you'd never know how busted up this thing was unless we told you!” Cain said, putting his hands triumphantly on his hips.

Nevertheless, Phobos crawled out of the cockpit of the shiny, fully repaired Equinox, with a sour look on his face. “How many times do I have to tell you, not to call me 'Phobz'?”

“Hold on, you're not done yet!” Cain called out to him.

Phobos stopped, one foot hanging off the side of the ship trying to find the ladder. “What now!” he whined.

“You can't just turn it on and off, _Phobz,_ you have to test sensitivity! Get back in there and mash the button a bunch of times to make sure it responds,” Cain shouted, miming the movement with his finger.

He could see Phobos roll his eyes even from some distance away, as he crawled back into the ship. Cain made another gesture with his finger when Phobos wasn't looking.

“Okay,” Cain sighed in exasperation, more from dealing with the pilot than the ship, and turned back to Praxis as he wiped some sweat from his forehead. “I think we're done here.”

“Yeah, it only took us two days,” Praxis groaned, crossing his arms as he tilted his head to look down at the slightly shorter Fighter.

_Khh –- Khh –- KhhKhh –- Kh Kh Kh Kh Kh --- Khh - Khh_

“We'll work on the Tiberius tomorrow,” Cain offered apologetically over the noise.

Deimos dropped down to the floor, sneaking over and taking a look around the hangar before wrapping his arms around Praxis's middle. Then he looked over at Cain with a grateful smile. Cain guessed that it had something to do with him and Praxis not killing each other.

Praxis gave Cain his own look of apology. “How's Abel doing?” he asked with a ruffled brow, and then turned his attention to mussing up Deimos's hair with his fingers.

“Better I hope,” Cain answered. “Was supposed to have surgery today. Gonna go visit him after this.”

“Well, tell him we said 'hi', okay? And that we hope he gets better soon,” Praxis asked, and Deimos concurred with a tiny nod of his head.

“Yeah, sure,” Cain shrugged.

“You... never really told us what happened to him.”

Wincing, Cain looked down at the ground and gritted his teeth to keep from lashing out in frustration. It wasn't Praxis's fault for pushing buttons that someone else had installed in his temper. “Can't.”

“Oh... well... he is gonna be okay isn't he?” Praxis pleaded, holding Deimos a little tighter.

“I hope so,” he answered, not quite meeting their eyes as he turned around to make the long walk out of the hangar.

 

It was amazing how quiet things could seem, even when there was so much going on. A hangar full of Starfighters needing repairs, and yet it seemed so empty. So quiet that you could hear a pin drop -- although to be fair, they were very large pins.

Cain wondered if it was just him... just some void in his imagination because he was without Abel, or perhaps the hangar was so big that sound just didn't carry. Or could it really be, because the whole ship was in mourning? Did that have some effect on sound waves that they didn't teach in school?

Not that _Abel_ was dead... not exactly...

No, not dead. Just in quarantine. Just in case the thing-that-no-one-was-talking-about had been contagious, and Abel was going to turn into some sort of bug boy. And _then_ they would kill him.

Covered in sweat and ache and grease, Cain dragged himself into the lift and pushed the button for the crew quarters deck. He tried to imagine what it would be like. How would they get rid of a Navigator that had accidentally turned into the enemy? Would they make it painless? And what about after? Would they just pretend he had never existed? Would they just wipe out his files and threaten Cain never to speak of him again, like they had already done about so many things?

He had to hurry. Had to get over to the hospital ship and see Abel again, before it was too late.

Second guessing himself, Cain took a couple of quick sniffs at his armpit.

Well, maybe a quick shower first.

 

* * *

 

Twenty-four hour nurse care... very big, muscular male nurses, that is. An arsenal of beeping machines. An isolated ventilation system. Two-inch thick bulletproof glass, two code-locked doors, a very restricted visitor's list, and several armed guards. Such were the measures that were needed, to monitor and contain the threat that was Abel. The skinny, helpless, hurt, sedated Navigator in a hospital gown.

Cain seethed as he looked down at the bed on the other side of the glass. He knew he should try to be in a good mood, for Abel's sake at least. But all the bandages on Abels's chest and his arm, the bruises around his neck, the needles in the crook of his elbow, just stirred up a rage inside him. And unfortunately at the moment, there were no Colterons to punch in the face to make it better, no weird bug-men to punch in the face to make it better, and punching himself in the face would probably get him put in the quarantine room next to Abel. He just had to hope that hearing the little blond's voice, seeing his still-human eyes, would make the rage go away.

He leaned into the small speaker in the glass and spoke quietly. “Abel? Can you hear me?”

The blond stirred a bit, groaning and squinting in Abel's familiar _not-a-morning-person_ way, though it was technically late in the afternoon. His face lit up with drowsy excitement as his eyes came into focus and he saw Cain. “Hey! You're here!” he whispered.

“Hey, princess!” Cain said with a quiet smile, trying to match the brightness in his voice that he saw in Abel's face. Abel was still Abel, and that was one thing to be at peace about, at least for the moment.

Abel put his hand up to the glass, reaching out for him even though they couldn't touch. Cain reached out too, a helpless half-smile on his face, dragging his fingers over Abel's hand.

“You feeling okay?” _Are you turning into a bug man?_ were the words that hung heavy in the air.

“I'm okay, a little drugged up...” Abel giggled as he stretched himself awake with his uninjured arm. “The nurses say the skin grafts are looking good. But I will have some scarring.”

Cain let a frown leak through onto his face. How was he supposed to tolerate anyone putting scars on Abel's body... well... besides him? 

And Abel must have seen it, because he frowned too. “But it won't be bad,” he said with quiet reassurance.

Cain quickly changed the subject before his current train of thought made him punch something. “I, uh, brought you some things.” He tried to sound enthusiastic, as he rummaged in his bag.

“Oh!” Abel said cheerily as he attempted to sit up and see. “Thanks!”

“Your book?” Cain held up the tablet for him to see before putting it back, and finding his music player and his headphones. “And, some music?”

Abel's eyes widened even more. “Wow, that's really sweet of you,” he slurred, as if it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, ever.

Cain tried to play it off with a shrug, looking down at the tiled floor and smiling to himself at Abel's intoxicated cuteness, with maybe just a dash of patting himself on the back. “Oh, well, you know. I just figured you'd be bored in here and stuff. It's nothing.”

“You can give them to the nurse when he comes back,” Abel said with a yawn, and absent-mindedly put his hand back on the glass.

Cain put his hand up to Abel's just to compare the two. Abel's hand was smaller, but his fingers were longer, bonier, thinner. Cain's hands were all angles and scars and callouses. Abel's were almost so flawless they were alien, but were the hands that had always brought Cain home.

 

 _You have to protect your Navigator,_ they had said in Basic. _If you don't protect your Navigator, you don't get to go home._

 _Simple enough,_ Cain had thought at the time, though now he knew different. And Abel had a scar and more on the way to prove it.

 

“How's the Reliant?” Abel asked, jarring Cain out of this thoughts.

“Oh! Uh... okay,” Cain shrugged non-committally. “She'll fly again. Needs a new wing... and some other little things.”

“Oh. Good.”

“All the engineers are working on the Sleipnir. So I've been put in charge of fixing up the smaller ships as much as the Fighters can. Worked on the Equinox today with Deimos and Praxis.”

“Oh good. Are both of them okay?” Abel asked hopefully.

“Yeah. They said hi.”

“Oh! Hi!” Abel exclaimed with an exaggerated smile, as if the two Fighters could see and hear him. “What about Encke and Keeler?”

Cain frowned. “Not so good.”

Abel's face abruptly darkened with a pouty, drunken imitation of Cain's frown.

“They're arguing a lot,” Cain continued. “Keeler's got it in his mind that we need to go to Colteron space on some sort of rescue mission.”

Abel looked around at the guards, speaking a bit quieter, slowly as if he were carefully choosing his words. “That's... quite a... questionable idea when we don't even know if there's someone to be rescued.”

“Yeah that's what we keep telling him, but he won't listen. I mean we don't even know –- we don't even know if we could --” the words died in Cain's throat. He couldn't even let himself think of the possibility of turning Abel back from a bug-man... because that would mean conceding that Abel might still turn in the first place.

 

They were quiet for a bit after that, just looking at each other through the glass, Cain trying to figure out if he had too much or not enough that he wanted to say. But all that melted away as he noticed that Abel was hardly dressed, probably wearing nothing but maybe underwear, if that, under his gown.

“Oh, the things I would do to you right now, if I could touch you...” he blurted out quietly into the speaker, hoping only Abel could hear.

“Cain!” Abel scoffed in half-hearted protest. But then his eyes darted around to see if anyone was listening, and he leaned in closer to the speaker, his hand demurely covering his crotch. _“What kind of things?”_

“Oh, I think I'll leave it to your imagination for now...” Cain purred with a sly smile. “But just know this: I have had months, to get to know you...” he said, flirtatiously stroking the glass as if it were Abel's blushing skin. “All the things you like... even the things you _say_ you don't like... all the places where I can touch you, and make you make those little noises that you make... I know every _inch..._ of you,” he concluded, looking at the Navigator up and down with his best seducer-Cain eyes.

And if the way Abel chewed on his lip hadn't done it, the accelerando of the heart monitor surely would have given away just how Cain's words affected him, beeping faster, and even faster when Abel noticed and got embarrassed and even pinker, and smiled so big it wrinkled his nose.

Cain silently wished that he could attach one of those machines to Abel all the time.

“Eleven days, sweetheart,” he said low into the speaker, soaking in the way Abel looked, so hopeful and so _alive_. “I have eleven days to make a list of every little thing I ever did, that turned you on.”

 

 _It's the survival_... he had said to Abel all those months ago. _To be alive, to experience both pain and pleasure._

 

He had to make himself say it, while they were both still alive for it to be said. Even though it would probably hurt.

“I love you.”

But it was Abel's eyes that filled with pain, like Cain's words hurt him more than any Colteron chemical weapon ever could. The heart monitor beeped naggingly faster. Even it seemed to concede that people were more alive when they were hurting. “Cain--”

“You don't have to say it back.” Cain said quickly. “Listen, I know I'm a piece of shit. I know that. I'm not saying it because I want you to say it back. I mean I _do_ want to you to, but...”

Cain swallowed as he tried to find the words. “I just... I just need you to know. Just in case. Okay? That's all. I love you. That's all.”

“Okay,” Abel said hoarsely, a worried smile on his face. “Thanks.”

 

 

* * *

 

“Cain!”

As the Fighter stepped off of the shuttle and back onto the Sleipnir, he heard a worried voice calling his name.

“Um, Cain! Hey!”

Ethos, the curly headed kid, ran over to meet him, tablet in his hand and a determined look on his face.

“What is it?” Cain said gruffly, glaring at the shorter man.

“You better come quick. Encke is asking for you in Central,” Ethos insisted.

“What? What's wrong?”

“Him and Keeler are fighting again --”

Cain looked at him sideways. "When you say 'fighting'..."

"I mean, they're having a very heated discussion. About some rescue mission, I don't know --"

“Oh, fucking hell...” Cain grumbled, and headed towards the lift, assuming that Ethos would be right on his heels.

 

“It's not a rescue mission, Keeler, it's a _suicide_ mission,” Encke was saying when Cain and Ethos rushed in the door.

Keeler gestured as he spoke with desperate, emphatic hands. “We have to try --”

“Look, it's fine for you to have a differing opinion,” Encke interrupted, pointing at Keeler accusingly. “But this is more than that. This is you, deliberately going behind my back, deliberately disobeying orders from Command, and trying to put men in danger, so you can have what you want. How am I supposed to trust you anymore?!”

“It's the right thing to do, Encke,” Keeler said gravely.

“No. It's the _stupid_ thing to do,” the other Lieutenant hissed. “We have _no_ idea what we're up against right now. Do you want an entire _ship_ full of men in isolation like Abel? Is that what you want?”

“We have to go now before the trail runs cold!”

“ _There is no trail,"_  Encke practically growled. He spelled out the facts very deliberately."Keeler. We're not. Going. After them. Not until we have more information, and the green light from command.  That is the end of the discussion. And you have to stop trying to make it happen --”

“I'm not going to stop trying. Never,” Keeler promised, his voice cracking into pieces even as his expression hardened.

“Well then you leave me with no choice,” Encke said quietly, heavy with disappointment that stung at Cain, even though it wasn't directed at him. Encke turned to the other Fighter then. “Cain? You're to escort the Lieutenant back to his quarters.”

Cain took a few uncertain steps forward, even as Keeler took a few steps back, hands up protectively in front of him now. “Encke, what are you saying?!” 

Encke huffed out a frustrated sigh, before standing up a little straighter, an authoritative and cold stillness in his eyes. “Lieutenant Keeler, I hereby declare you to be temporarily unfit for command.”

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Cain**

 

“What?!” Suddenly stricken with shock, Keeler's face looked as if Encke might as well have shot him. “Encke... you can't do this –-”

“I can. And I have to,” Encke broke character for a moment before going back to his decree. “You will be confined to quarters for the next forty-eight hours, at which time I will re-assess your standing.”

“Encke, please!” Keeler exclaimed, and was ignored.

“I will give you the opportunity to name your replacement before you go--”

“ENCKE!”

“Keeler,” Encke growled sternly. “Choose a replacement, or I will choose one for you.”

 

Caught up in the tense silence that followed, Cain stood a few feet away on a lower platform, eyes darting back and forth between the two Lieutenants. This was bad. Very bad. The debate about the rescue mission had raged on between them for days, and now Encke was pulling him into it, almost forcing Cain to choose a side.

Meanwhile, Keeler stood tall, staring intently at Encke, hands balled into fists at his side. Like maybe if he stared at his partner long enough, Encke would change his mind.

Finally something in Keeler's posture changed. He looked over at the Navigator that was standing by the door. “...Ethos. Until Abel returns. Then Abel.”

“Me?” Ethos said with quiet surprise behind Cain.

Encke breathed out a sigh of what almost passed as relief. “Very well. Cain, escort the Lieutenant back to his quarters.”

Well that was it, then. That was a direct order. Cain stood up a little straighter in acknowledgment. “Yes, sir!” he responded automatically, though he failed to keep the regret out of his voice.

“No! I'm not going anywhere,” Keeler declared, changing his mind even as he stood unmovable like stone. “I'm not leaving until--”

“Keeler?” Encke interrupted, a heartbroken warning in his voice. “We're done here. Walk out, or Cain will walk you out.”

“No,” Keeler didn't move, didn't take his eyes off of Encke, even as Cain slowly walked up the steps behind him and grabbed his arm.

“NO! Get your hands off me!” Keeler struggled within Cain's grasp, as he tried as gently as he could to pin one hand behind Keeler's back, and guide him away from Encke by the shoulder.

“Are you going to leave on your own?” Cain asked quietly over the Lieutenant's shoulder, giving Keeler a final chance. He only shook his head in response, his jaw set and his gaze cutting with cold as he looked at Cain out of the corner of his eye.

He pulled Keeler backwards, twisting him around to face the steps before pushing him forward towards the door. The Lieutenant didn't struggle much until they got to the entrance, whereupon he twisted around to look at Encke. “They were your friends, too,” he said accusingly.

Cain found himself looking at Encke. He knew so little about this mission that Keeler wanted to go on... about who he was trying to rescue. He needed some reassurance from Encke that he was doing the right thing.

But Encke just gestured at Cain to keep going. It wasn't until the two of them were almost out the door that he heard Encke say, “You still _are_ my friend, Keeler...”

 

He pushed Keeler mercilessly down the hall, both of them stumbling over their feet as they walked towards the lift. Cain mostly just wanted to get it over with before anyone saw them, mostly for his own sake, but maybe for Keeler's, too.

“I can't believe I let myself think you and Encke were different,” Keeler spat from in front of him. “But it turns out, you Fighters are all the same...”

“We're all just human, love. Just trying to do the best we can out here,” Cain said quietly, trying to keep calm so that Keeler would keep calm, as they stumbled into the lift.

“I'm not _just_ _human_. I'm more than that,” Keeler said as the lift started to move, a small helping of ego staining his voice. “You know, I've really tried to believe that being a clone didn't make me better, but maybe I was wrong.”

Keeler finally managed to get under his skin with that remark. “Oh _really?_ You're a clone, huh?” Cain said with mocking interest and a sneer as the lift doors opened again. “Well _so am I_ , so shut the _fuck_ up and walk,” he barked.

“What?” Keeler breathed in disbelief as Cain pushed him into the corridor, stumbling as they moved toward his and Encke's quarters.

 _Well, half-clone,_ Cain thought to himself, though he chose not to weaken his retort by elaborating any further to Keeler.

“Open the door,” Cain ordered, positioning Keeler so he could use his free hand to enter the code.

The door slid open, and Cain pushed the Lieutenant inside, letting go, at the same time that Keeler started to wriggle to get free -- and he didn't even have a chance to react, as the blond spun around in the dark and punched him right in the face.

Cain caught his throbbing cheek in his hand, reeling from the surprise of it as much as the pain. He glared over at Keeler, who stood there silent near the center of the room, staring right back, like he was waiting for Cain to do something about it.

Cain frowned, touching his hand to his lip and studying the resulting smear of blood in the glaring light from the doorway. His teeth had apparently cut open the inside of his cheek.

He knew he should be angry, and he _was_ angry, but truthfully, manhandling Keeler through the hallway and then getting punched in the face, was the first real contact he'd had with another man in days. Cain was only half-surprised that his cock was starting to stiffen.

 

_It's the survival... to be alive, to experience both pain and pleasure._

 

And frankly, Cain had had enough pain for one day.

And Maybe Keeler had, too. If there was anything that Cain had learned about Navigators, it was that they had a tendency to twist themselves into a tangle of raw nerves. Over-thinking everything, over- _feeling_ everything, until they weren't any good to anybody. Sometimes, all your Navigator needed, was a good fuck.

 

Without taking his eyes off of Keeler, he reached over and pushed the button that would close the door and envelop them in darkness. Letting his eyes adjust, the only movement that he made was an almost involuntary flaring of his nostrils.

“What are you doing?” he heard Keeler ask in the black, half-demanding, and half-pleading.

“You want to do it again?” Cain suggested with delight, straightening his back as he took only a small step forward, to tower over Keeler in stance, even if they were practically the same height.

“Why, so you can have an excuse to hit me back next time?” Keeler jeered.

“Wasn't talking about the hitting...” Cain mused. “Although... as I recall, we never _really_ did it the last time.”

“Tch, is that all you ever think about?!” he could practically feel Keeler watching him with a gaze intense and unreadable.

“Hey, you're the one that punched me in the face,” Cain explained, feigning an innocent look out of the corner of his eye as he circled around Keeler. “For a Fighter that's practically like buying me flowers!”

He came up behind and wrapped two arms around Keeler, resting his chin on his shoulder, and purring into the other man's ear with only the slightest threat in his voice. _“You really shouldn't have.”_

He smiled to himself as he felt Keeler shiver and melt backwards into his chest. He knew now it was only a matter of time before Keeler either gave in or kicked him the fuck out of his room, the latter still seeming more likely.

Tracing gloved fingers down Keeler's arm, he took the hand that had punched him and gingerly brought it up to his own face. He could just barely make out the red on Keeler's knuckles in the low light as he pressed his mouth to them, kissing them dramatically and letting out a small, pleased grunt.

Cain let his hands wander over the sides of Keeler's stomach as he spoke right into his spine. “You've been... heh... _'fighting'_ everybody...” Cain said playfully. “...me, Abel, Encke... the 'Terons... for days!”

“Aren't you tired of fighting?” he sighed with exaggerated weariness, once again resting his head on Keeler's shoulder.

Keeler's only response was a tiny whimper as Cain's hand dipped down to lightly claw at the place where his thigh met his hip.

“What is that old saying...” Cain pondered, “uh... 'make love, not war'? Or... 'I'm a lover, not a Fighter'? Something like that?”

Keeler scoffed. “I doubt that you're capable of anything _remotely_ resembling making love.”

Cain's lips pressed together in a smirk as he snorted a laugh, at what was practically a dare. “And I really doubt, that's what you would want right now anyway,” he countered, and then fell silent and still, waiting for Keeler to make the next move.

 

He fell slightly backwards as Keeler pulled forward and slipped out of his grasp, braid whipping behind him as he marched over to the panel by the door.

Cain shifted his weight, trying his best to look casual about it, resisting the urge to squint his eyes as he prepared for the door to open, and for Keeler to curtly show him out.

But Keeler only shot him a quick glance as he punched another code into the door, causing it to respond with a series of beeps, before walking back over to Cain.

Cain's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Keeler had locked the door from the inside.

 _Shit, is this actually going to happen?_ he wondered to himself as he and Keeler looked at each other. He hadn't really thought this through, and now that he had Keeler right where he wanted him, alone and in the dark, Cain began to have second thoughts --

“Mmmm...” He didn't have much time to deliberate with himself about it, because Keeler was on him in a moment, fingers twisting themselves into his jacket and lips locking desperately with Cain's.

He caught Keeler's head between his gloved hands, pulling the blond closer and then pulling the gloves off, distracting Keeler with a tongue in his mouth as he carefully pulled out the tie in his hair. He tossed it away, then undid the braid, feeling Keeler startle a bit as his platinum locks fell loose down his back.

But he just kissed harder to distract Keeler from that, too, catching his tongue with his teeth as he undid the zipper on his white jacket, pushing it off of Keeler's shoulders and swiftly wrapping two strong arms around Keeler's middle before it even hit the floor.

Cain dug his fingers into Keeler's skin through his undershirt, grinding their growing erections together through their clothes, as Keeler ran his fingers across Cain's chest, and pulled his jacket off, too. Without breaking the kiss, he got his arms free of it and cast it aside, before rotating Keeler to the left and gently pushing him backwards. The blond caught himself with his hands, sitting on the edge of the bed looking positively stunned.

Cain moved forward, watching Keeler's face melt from fear into solemnity, as he dropped to his knees at the blond's feet, and reached for a boot. Tilting it up, he pulled the boot off, and then slowly slid the sock off Keeler's foot, centimeter by centimeter.

He could see Keeler swallow hard as he repeated the process with the other foot, watching Cain carefully as he brought the foot up to his mouth and suggestively sucked on a toe. He let the other hand wander underneath Keeler's trousers, sliding up to massage at the firm calf muscle underneath.

And it was then that Keeler's eyes rolled back into his head, as he lay down on his back and let out an encouraging sigh.

Cain's lips formed a wicked grin before he opened them and pressed them to the fleshy part of Keeler's foot. He never really had understood why being on your knees was supposed to be a position of weakness, when you could get reactions like that.

“How did you know –- how did you know to do that?” Keeler managed, as he writhed on top of the covers.

“Mmm, I could tell you...” Cain hummed. “But then I'd have to kill you,” he joked.

Cain went back to his ministrations as Keeler reached down and undid the button on his trousers, obviously not caring much where Cain had obtained his skills, as he stroked himself at a steady pace.

Cain switched to the other foot, running his tongue between toes as he squeezed at Keeler's other smooth leg.

“Ohhhhhh...” Keeler let out a gutteral moan, picking up the pace as he continued to jerk at his cock inside his pants.

Cain hungrily licked his lips, moving on his knees to position himself between Keeler's legs. He pulled Keeler's pants down to his thighs, letting his cock bounce free. He locked eyes with Keeler as he stretched his lips over the head of his cock, ravenously swiping his tongue all over it before taking him in deep.

Keeler arched up, head lolling back onto the bed and groaning with pleasure. Cain responded to that by running his hands over Keeler's thighs and up under his tank top, holding him to the bed and thumbing at his nipples while he worked at Keeler's cock with his mouth.

“Ahhhh! Cain!” the blond cried out, and Cain pulled back to run his tongue victoriously over the head again, smiling huge as Keeler strained to lift his head off the bed to look at him.

The blond sat up then, giving Cain a shy smile as he pulled his own tank top off, and then put a finger under Cain's chin, beckoning him onto the bed in a way that was somehow equal parts demure and seductive.

Cain smiled wickedly, cocking up an eyebrow as he let himself be led by the gesture, lifting himself up off the floor and climbing over Keeler as he laid himself back down perpendicular on the bed.

“What?” Keeler looked up at him with flirtatious uncertainty.

“Hmm?” Cain tilted his head, not sure what Keeler was asking about.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Keeler asked, an amused smile on his face.

Cain's eyebrows raised even more, as he realized he had just been gaping... mesmerized by Keeler, who was truly not to be underestimated. Cain started to wonder if that was a bad thing.

He gazed intensely into Keeler's eyes and lightly touched his hair behind his ear. “Because _this_ is the Keeler I remember.”

The blond just smiled back, and pulled Cain's black tank top over his head. Keeler kicked his own pants off onto the floor, and wrapped his legs around Cain's waist.

As the two of them kissed and grinded against each other, through Keeler's underwear and Cain's grey pants... Cain found it all too easy to push Abel out of his mind. He needed this, as much as it pained him to admit it, and he just had to hope that Abel would forgive him, or somehow see that it was only fair, or maybe never find out at all...

That thought was quickly banished from his mind as Keeler grabbed at his arms and guided him over on his back, blond hair falling in Keeler's face as he straddled Cain and worked to get the fly of his pants undone.

Cain just looked up and down, appreciating Keeler's nearly naked form as the blond leaned down, with one hand moving up and down Cain's cock, mouth open in a lusty smile.  
Cain groaned at the gentle touch, already so hard just from getting Keeler going, delighting in the feeling of swelling even bigger under Keeler's hand, which meant his blood was being redirected from his brain and it would be easier not to think.

Keeler moved off of him suddenly, turning around and anchoring himself to the bed with his legs as he rummaged around for something underneath. Cain took the opportunity to reach over and grab a pillow from the head of the bed, and kick his boots off of his feet. Then he pulled Keeler's white boxer-briefs off of his ass and down his legs, before giving Keeler a playful swat on the behind.

SMACK!

“Hey!” came Keeler's giggling voice from under the bed, along with the sounds of rummaging through a plastic tub. “No fair!”

“'Swhat happens when you take too long,” Cain chuckled as he sling-shotted the white underwear somewhere into the darkness.

And truthfully he wanted Keeler to hurry up, so he could get back to not thinking about how seldom he and Abel ever _laughed_ together in bed. Not that sex with Abel was bad, he reassured himself, it was anything _but_ bad... it was amazing.... But it was different. Just like Abel and Keeler had been different, perhaps.

His thoughts were interrupted as he realized that Keeler had stopped rummaging, and was just hanging over the side of the bed, wiggling his ass at Cain, practically asking for another spanking.

SMACK! SMACK!

Keeler yelped, and then laughed again as he hauled himself back up on the bed, with a small bottle of lube in his hand. He crawled on his knees over to Cain and handed him the bottle.

“...And what exactly am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Oh, you'll think of something,” Keeler mused, as he straddled the Fighter's upper half, holding his hard cock right in Cain's face.

Cain just looked up at the blond, unimpressed. Was Keeler trying to degrade him?

He responded to that thought by dropping the bottle, grabbing Keeler by the ass with both hands and pushing him forward into Cain's mouth.

“OH!” Keeler gasped with a short breath, as Cain bobbed his head relentlessly over the head of Keeler's cock from underneath him.

He let Keeler take over after a few moments, patting around on the bed to find the bottle as he watched the man above him put his hands on the wall to steady himself. _God you look sexy like that,_ Cain wanted to say, but unfortunately there was a cock slowly fucking his mouth, so it just came out as an insistent moan.

Finally finding the bottle, he did his best to drip some onto Keeler's backside without getting too much on his chest. Then he glided his hands around and began working his fingers in.

Keeler audibly shuddered above him, his cock twitching inside of Cain's mouth even as he went still, visibly overwhelmed and breathing heavy. He finally started going again, slowly moving in and out, taking his time about it.

Cain moved his hand so that every time Keeler moved out, his fingers would thrust into him. With the other hand, he took some more lube and began slicking up his own cock, keeping his own need manageable until Keeler decided he was finished with him...

“Oh god! Just like that --” Keeler moaned above him, moving backwards into Cain's slightly curled fingers.

And how long had it been since he'd thought in those kinds of terms? How long had it been since someone had _used_ him like this? Abel had always been too nice to even think of doing something so bold. And lying there moaning over Keeler's leaking cock, he realized that he'd actually kind of missed it. But how could Keeler have known?

Maybe he wasn't the only one who paid attention to details.

Keeler pulled out of his mouth, causing a light smacking sound, before moving down so that he and Cain were face to face.

Cain sat up, lifting Keeler with him, pulling the blond into his lap and kissing him deep so he could taste himself in Cain's mouth. Keeler's chest was heaving now from all the excitement, breath almost shuddering through his nose as their tongues flitted around each other. Cain buried his face in Keeler's hair by his ear. “How do you want me to fuck you?” he purred, secretly hoping that Keeler wouldn't want to move too much from where they were.

“Uhhh!” Keeler gasped, and Cain could feel his whole body shudder, either from Cain's voice tickling his neck, or maybe the words themselves, or maybe both. “Like this –- just like this...” he stammered in an almost-whisper, raising himself up slightly on his knees.

Cain nodded, breathing heavy as he took his cock and aligned it with Keeler's entrance, eyes fluttering closed as he felt Keeler lower himself in one slow, fluid motion.

He kept his eyes closed, willing himself to be anchored to the moment by the feeling of Keeler's fingers digging into his shoulders, Keeler's teeth pulling at his bottom lip as his mouth hung open from him concentrating so hard. He opened his eyes as Keeler started to move above him, just in time to see some flash of surprise go across the blond's face, like he'd just realized what he was doing and with whom.

Keeler's chest rose and fell in Cain's face as he moved up and down. Cain pulled him closer to run his tongue over a nipple that had practically been begging for it, never looking away from Keeler's face as he took it into his mouth and lightly nibbled.

“Mmm!” the blond made a small, choked moan. Cain watched Keeler press his lips together as he watched Cain pull away and blow cold air on the place where he'd just been sucking.

“Fuck,” Cain whispered. “You look so fucking sexy riding me like that,” he heard himself say, unable to hold back his thoughts on the matter any longer.

“Ohhh...” Keeler visibly shuddered again in Cain's arms and started riding him a little faster.

“Hmm... you like it when I talk dirty to you, huh?” he realized with a smile.

Keeler leaned down, resting his forehead on Cain's shoulder as he continued to move, hair hiding his face as he moaned even more, the heat from his embarrassment radiating into Cain's skin.

Cain smiled as he looked at the blond out of the corner of his eye. _“Y tibya takoye seksooalnaye tyela...”_

“Oh god... Cain!” Keeler pleaded breathlessly.

Grinning madly, he shifted over and pushed at Keeler with his shoulder. “Come here... Come here!” he growled. “I want to look at you while I fuck you.”

Keeler's pale skin continued flushing a rosey red, as he leaned back to let Cain look at his face. He held onto Cain's neck as he slowly slid up and down on his cock and bit his own lip. And just when the Fighter thought he had him right where he wanted him, the smile under Keeler's teeth turned devious, and he slid his fingers into Cain's shaggy hair and pulled his head back _hard._

“Agghhh! Fuck!” he cried out, thrusting up into Keeler in disapproval, or maybe approval. He growled from low in his throat, eyes glazing over with arousal and rage as Keeler pushed him on his back onto the bed.

Keeler leaned down, gripping his hands into the covers on either side of Cain's head, riding him relentlessly now, as his hair cascaded all around them, so all that Cain could see was Keeler wickedly running a tongue over his lip.

“Oh, FUCK yeah...” Cain strained to say, letting the curse fall in time with a very encouraging slap on Keeler's ass. He bent his knees, and dug his fingers into Keeler's sides until the blond grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

Suddenly, Keeler leaned in closer to Cain's face and slowed down, teasing at the head of Cain's cock with his entrance, never quite pulling him all the way out. “Do you want me to go fast again?” He murmured, his lips almost touching Cain's lips.

Cain answered that by snapping his teeth in the direction of Keeler's face, and lifting his hips off of the bed in rebellion, making Keeler startle backwards as Cain slipped inside him again.

The blond smugly tilted his head once he recovered, taking Cain in all the way now, and holding him there so he couldn't mess around. “Do you?” he asked again, a little dirtier this time.

“Yes... fuck--” Cain managed, needing it so bad now that he could hardly form words.

“Then you have to convince me,” Keeler teased with an almost innocent smile, which quickly melted away as he moved slightly and they both involuntarily groaned in pleasure. Obviously he wasn't going to take much convincing.

Cain strained to lift his head off the bed, meeting Keeler's lips, fighting for control of his hands again, to fist one in Keeler's disheveled hair, and wrap another around the other man's cock. He kissed the blond intensely, pouring everything that he wanted and needed and missed and feared and wanted to forget, into the hot place where their mouths met.

Finally he couldn't hold his head up anymore, so he let it fall back onto the bed, taking Keeler's lips with him as they continued the kiss, and Keeler sped up to the same relentless pace from before.

Feeling himself swell unbearably inside of Keeler, Cain pulled away and gritted his teeth. “Oh, shit! Keeler... I'm gonna--”

“Uhh... m–- me too!”

“Oh, fuck! FUCK!!!” Cain came with a shout, every muscle in his body seeming to tighten as he filled Keeler with cum, and brought Keeler over with him with his hand, his stomach covered in Keeler's own satisfying heat.

 

As they looked at each other with wide eyes, catching their breath, it occurred to Cain that Keeler looked... bad. He wasn't just panting, he was... _hyperventilating_.

Suddenly Keeler clutched his fist to his chest like he needed to keep his heart from leaping out of it.

“Hey.” Cain sat back up, his eyes widening with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah –- I'm fine -- I just need –- a second --”

But Cain wasn't buying it at all. “You need to lie down.”

“No -- I don't -- I just --”

“Wasn't a question. Come here.” Cain took up Keeler's weight into his arms, shifting them to lay at the head of the bed with Keeler closer to the wall. “Lie down.”

Cain watched helplessly as Keeler closed his eyes and practically collapsed onto the bed beside him, gasping for air, slightly curling himself into Cain's chest.

“Um... do I need to get you something? Do I need to take you to the med bay?” Cain asked frantically, all sexy thoughts draining out of his mind as he watched Keeler struggle to breathe.

“No, no. I just –- need to calm down.”

Cain nodded, and swallowed, trying to stay calm so that Keeler could stay calm. He looked down at the scar on Keeler's chest. “Your heart?”

“...Yeah.”

Cain wearily rubbed his face with his hand. Now that he wasn't thinking with his dick, so many thoughts were going through his brain at once. How did he let this happen? How did _Keeler_ let this happen?

Cain moved Keeler's hand out of the way, putting his own palm on Keeler's chest to feel his heartbeat. “You gonna be okay? You're not going to die on me?”

“Yeah. No. I mean –- I'll be fine.”

Keeler was snuggling up to him, still breathing loudly into Cain's shoulder. Now that there was no need for alarm, Cain found himself a bit angry. “You could have said something...” he scolded.

The blond just shook his head desperately. “I thought –- I thought it would help,” he whimpered. “I just... I just didn't want to think about anything anymore... But I guess it caught up to me.”

Cain was all too familiar with that sentiment. He sighed heavily as he put his hand over Keeler's heart again, ignoring the mess they'd made for the moment, for the more immediate concern. “You sure there's nothing I need to do?” he prodded with a stern look.

“No... just...” Keeler was silent for a few moments, the conflict within him evident on his face. “Just hold me. Please,” he half-whispered.

Cain took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if that would somehow help. Rolling over on the bed, he reached for Keeler's shirt on the floor. He shifted back over to Keeler, wiping him off as best he could, before cleaning himself up and tossing the shirt away.

Pulling himself closer to Keeler, he brought the blond's head to his chest, and wrapped an arm around to gently rub Keeler's back. He rested his chin on the top of Keeler's head, talking softly into his hair. “Sorry I almost sexed you to death,” he said poutingly.

“Pffft,” Keeler snorted. “It wasn't the _sex_ that did it. I mean, you're _good,_ you're not _that_ good,” he said as he shifted a bit and yawned.

Cain jerked his head back and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, well... thanks... I... I think?”

Keeler gave him a tiny smile.

 

Breaking through the silence, there was a very unwelcome chime at the door.

 

“ _Shit!”_ Cain hissed, jumping up from the bed, suddenly very glad that he'd left his pants on the whole time.

“Computer –- who's at the door?” Keeler asked breathlessly.

 

(Task name: Encke)

(Designation: Lead Fighter)

(Ranking: 2)

“Wait...” Cain stopped dead in his tracks. “ _What?!_ ”

“Just... help me get my clothes... I'll get rid of him.” Keeler ordered quietly.

 _“I passed Encke in the rankings?!”_ Cain whisper-shouted, as he rushed across the room to look for Keeler's underpants. He found them and tossed them to their owner.

“Shh, don't worry about that, just hide,” Keeler rebuked, as he figured out he couldn't wear his soiled shirt and rushed to the small dresser to find a new one.

Cain grabbed the rest of his clothes, and hid in the dark corner of the room next to the bathroom, wearing nothing but his pants. He watched as Keeler straightened his clothes, smoothed out his hair, and keyed the door open.

 

“Why did you lock the door?!” Encke demanded incredulously, obviously fighting the urge to raise his voice.

Keeler crossed his arms, glaring at his Fighter across the threshold. “You're not sleeping here tonight.”

“Keeler, come on.”

“No. I don't want to see you right now--”

“Keeler, I'm tired,” Encke tried to reason. “I just wanna go to sleep.”

“There's an empty room across the hall,” Keeler said coldly. “Just go sleep in there.”

Cain noticed that Keeler's expression suddenly softened, almost a bit too dramatically. “I just... I just need to be alone, okay?” Keeler pleaded, as much with his eyes as with his words.

There was a long silence, and then an exasperated sigh from the other side of the door. “...Fine. Just get me some clothes,” Encke conceded with a groan.

Keeler closed the door again, rushing over to Encke's dresser and pulling out a couple of days' worth of uniforms. He looked over at Cain, motioning silently for him to stay put. Then he walked back over to the door, straightening up his posture before opening it again.

“Keeler...” Encke said as his Navigator handed him the clothes. “I'm really sorry about London. I really am...”

 _London?_ Cain wondered silently. _Wasn't that a city on Earth?_

“But... you've got to pull it together okay?” Encke continued. Keeler's eyes looked down to the floor in defeat, before looking back up at Encke.

“I need you, Keeler,” the Fighter said emphatically. “The crew needs you. Hell, maybe even Abel needs you... We need you here. And I don't just mean physically.”

Cain watched as Keeler took in and let go of a deep, but shaky breath.

“He and Paris _were_ my friends, too,” Encke admitted. “But Keeler. Even if they're still alive. Even if we could find them somehow! London's not gonna be the same man that he was. The London that you loved is...”

Cain silently twisted his remaining clothes in his hand. Things were suddenly starting to make way more sense.

“...he's never coming back,” Encke finished.

Keeler looked down at the ground again. “I know...” he said quietly.

“And anyway,” Encke pleaded. “He would probably want you to remember him the way that he was. Before.”

“Yeah...” Keeler tightly nodded his head and tightly closed his eyes. “I know...”

“Just... take a couple days and get your head straight. Okay? Ethos and Cain and I will cover for you. I'll make sure that they do. And I'll be right across the hall if you need me.”

“Okay...” Keeler agreed with a helpless smile. “Thanks.”

Keeler stood there for a few more moments before he closed the door, returning the room to darkness. Cain could barely see, as the little blond let gravity pull him backwards onto the door, hitting his head against it in frustration, and sliding down to the floor, where he pulled his knees into himself and hid his face in his arms.

Cain just stood there, looking at Keeler, at an utter loss now for what to say, or do... questioning everything that he'd already said and done, having not understood until now what Keeler was going through... why he had fought the way he had, with Command, and Encke, and even with Cain. But Cain knew that Keeler was doing exactly what he would have done himself.

 

Because all of the fears that Cain was having about Abel... Keeler... was living them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round and Round by Imagine Dragons is actually my song for Cain and Keeler. This chapter is basically like part 2 of the last chapter, so just pretend.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psst, I also added a new (very short) chapter 4.

**Keeler**

 

_The Lieutenant walks into Central, tall and lanky and dashing in his blinding white uniform. He catches Keeler's eyes, with eyes that are dark like two new moons, so they seem more devious when he's making trouble and more vulnerable when he's making love._

_He smiles at Keeler across the room, running his fingers through his messy blond hair in delighted surprise, as if they haven't seen each other in ages... though it must have been just yesterday... or the day before...? Keeler can't quite remember._

But it doesn't matter, because he's here now.

_Keeler smiles back at him as he approaches, shy and expectant, waiting for him to speak, because Keeler hangs on his every word._

“ _Lieutenant Keeler... would you please join me in my office for a moment?” he asks, flashing his devious eyes at the other blond, even as his voice remains commanding and professional._

Something isn't right...

“ _Of course!” Keeler replies, following close behind the other Navigator, and only remembering as the door closes behind them, that it_ has _been ages. It's been far too long._

“ _Where --” Keeler starts as the Lieutenant presses him against the wall and buries his face in Keeler's neck, making his skin tingle with hungry kisses. “Where have you been?”_

_He pushes the other man back to look at his face, his dark eyes, his messy blond hair, with just a splash of color in the bangs... “Everyone thought you were dead! They... they made me be Lead Navigator in your place! Where have you been?!” Keeler demands._

_But the Lieutenant just leans in close again, kissing Keeler's forehead, his eyelids, his cheekbones, his jaw..._

This has happened before...

“ _London...” Keeler tries to scold, but it comes out as a moan, as the Lieutenant's hands start grabbing insistently at his clothes. “Please...”_

This isn't right. You're not supposed to be here.

_And far too fast, faster than should be possible, Keeler is out of his uniform, held naked against the wall with his legs wrapped around London's waist._

Wake up.

“ _London... no! We can't!” Keeler manages. “What if –- what if somebody walks in?”_

Wake up.

“ _They can watch if they really want to...” London answers playfully as he moves against Keeler's naked form. “I would love for all the galaxy to see... how beautiful your face is when I make you come...” He leans in to kiss Keeler with warm, soft lips. London soaks in the sight of Keeler's body, with eyes that slowly change from dark and vulnerable, to glowing bright, emotionless and purple --_

 

WAKE UP!!!

 

 

“UH!!!” Keeler shot straight up in the bed, wrestling with his mind for truth, and his lungs for air.

“Whoa... _blya_ _!_ _”_ A body shifted beside him. “You okay, baby?!”

He glanced back, eyes wide open with terror, and not getting any smaller seeing Cain beside him in his bed, naked from the waist up.

“Hey... talk to me,” the Fighter ordered sleepily, as he scooted closer to Keeler and put a warm hand on his back. “You okay?”

Keeler pressed his hands over his face, determined not to breathe... because if he breathed, he knew he would cry. But then he cried anyway, tiny, stifled sobs as Cain sighed behind him. Keeler didn't want to be alone, but he could sense Cain's discomfort without even looking at him.

“You really don't –- have to stay,” Keeler sobbed, hugging his knees. “You can just go.”

Cain took in a sharp breath, pulling up behind Keeler, a leg on either side. He rested his chin on Keeler's shoulder, lazy and warm. “I'm not leaving. I told you to shut up about it already.” And for some reason, it just made Keeler cry harder when Cain put his arms around him, holding him tight and gently rocking the two of them back and forth. He couldn't hold it in anymore, everything from the past few days crashing down on him, as he finally cried himself awake.

Cain stayed silent for a long while, not saying anything comforting, but not saying anything mocking either, much to Keeler's relief. Instead he just put a hand over Keeler's chest, trying and failing to be stealthy about checking Keeler's pounding pulse. “Now... what did you dream about?” he asked after a long while.

“It's the same dream,” Keeler admitted, as he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Well, except for the ending," he muttered. "I have it all the time. Ever since... since London was taken.”

“And London is... who?” Cain asked, his accent adding new flavor to the name.

“He was the Lead Navigator before me,” Keeler answered hoarsely. “We were... close.”

“Hmm...” Cain made a grumbly, ponderous noise from deep in his throat. “And he was captured? With that... Halley guy we found...?”

“Yeah. Halley, Donati, and London and Paris... we thought they were all dead--” Keeler stopped, pulling out of Cain's arms and turning around to face him. He didn't want to talk about what happened, even if Cain was one of three people he could talk about it with. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” the Fighter asked with a frown.

Keeler shrugged, crossing his legs to parallel Cain's posture. “Being... here for me.”

“I dunno,” Cain answered. “It's what Abel would do... isn't it?” Cain made it sound like he were fulfilling the wishes of the deceased.

“Abel isn't dead,” Keeler reminded him with a glare. “He's just... not here.”

“And London?” Cain shot back. “Not dead? But not here.”

Keeler opened his mouth to snap at Cain, a split second before he realized what Cain was really saying, underneath his defensive facade. Yes, there was a chance that soon, Abel would be as good as dead, just like London. And Cain didn't want to be alone, any more than Keeler did.

He leaned in, placing a hand on Cain's cheek, looking into his dark and suddenly vulnerable eyes. Cain didn't resist, so Keeler moved forward, wrapping his arms around Cain's neck as their legs tangled together.

Cain didn't cry, of course. He hardly even hugged Keeler back, as if to do so would be some admission that he actually needed a hug in the first place. So Keeler just held him, until he felt Cain relax and allow himself to breathe.

“You know,” Keeler said into Cain's neck. “Abel... reminds me of him. A lot. They look alike... both brave... tough as nails but still gentle, and kind...”

Cain grunted at that, holding Keeler a little tighter now that Keeler was making it about someone else.

“Heh,” Keeler snorted a nostalgic laugh, voice still tense from crying. “They both even have those... colored streaks in their hair.”

Cain stiffened suddenly, and pushed Keeler back to look at his face. “Wait. Hold up. London had _streaks_ like Abel?” Keeler gave small nod in response, and swallowed hard, trying not to be afraid of the Fighter's shift in mood. “Like _me?”_

Keeler genuinely had to think about it... had to let his brain put these puzzle pieces together with some effort, even though they perfectly fit. “Well, yeah--”

“--What color were they?” Cain demanded quickly.

“They... were kind of a yellow-orange color... why?”

Cain grabbed his arms, staring Keeler down with intense black eyes. “Keeler, listen to me, this is important. Were they just normal orange, or like... unnaturally orange? Like, 'that color shouldn't be on a human's head' orange?”

“Um,” Keeler shook his head as he tried to remember. “Unnatural, I guess. I always assumed that he dyed them. He swore that he didn't, but -– Cain what is this about?!”

Cain sighed, scratching the back of his head before looking back at Keeler. “Have you ever heard of the Tsygan Clone Rebellion?”

“Um, no...?” Keeler answered, eyes searching around the room.

“No of _course_ not,” Cain spat. “Don't want to remind little Earthlings of a time when clones didn't have rights. When there were no laws to protect them.”

Cain sat up a little straighter, folding his arms to cover his chest. “Back a few hundred years ago, some really rich guy –- _insanely_ rich guy -- decided to make his own personal clone army. I'm talking, a thousand of the quickest, most cunning, most ruthless clones, made by the greatest geneticist the galaxy has ever seen.” Cain's words took on an unusual eloquence, and Keeler imagined this was some legend that had been repeated to Cain over and over again, until finally he had learned it by rote.

“Well,” Cain continued. “The problem with have a super-human clone army is that eventually, they figure out they outnumber you.”

Keeler nodded in understanding. “Hence the rebellion.”

“Right,” Cain said. “They demanded freedom... demanded the opportunity to choose for themselves what they did with their lives. Like any other human.”

The Fighter leaned back, resting his weight on his hands. “In the Russian colonies, these clones and their children became known as the Tsygane, because they wandered around the galaxy like gypsies. My father was one of their descendents.”

Scrunching up his face in a skeptical smirk, Keeler studied Cain up and down.

“What?” Cain demanded, clearly unamused.

“Oh, no offense,” Keeler chuckled. “I mean there's certainly something _special_ about you, but you don't really strike me as being, you know... _super-_ human,” he said, pretending to flex his arms.

“Hey. I didn't say biggest and strongest, did I?” Cain retorted. “These clones were not designed for hand-to-hand combat. They were designed to be _prodigies_ at using weapons technology. And the hope was, that eventually they would start inventing their own. They were supposed to be the entire army,” Cain explained, making two halves of a wide circle with his hands. “Not just foot soldiers, but the strategists, and the engineers, and commanders as well.”

Then Cain's expression darkened into disgust. “They made men and women, so that they could 'breed' and make more soldiers, to fight for this rich dude and his family forever.”

Keeler was still having trouble with a few of the puzzle pieces. “But if all of this happened hundreds of years ago, what's it got to do with London and Abel...?”

Cain tilted his head, holding out an excited finger like he'd just gotten to the best part. “This geneticist's trademark... was the colored hair.” He pointed to his own bangs. “You see? No one else has ever been able to make these streaks. The rumor is, that somehow... this geneticist is still alive. Found some way to cheat death with his cloning technology. And that he's been making clones for the Alliance.”

“Like London...” Keeler said weakly.

“Yeah. So,” Cain shrugged. “It's possible that your boyfriend was--” Cain immediately caught his mistake, and cleared his throat. “Sorry, _is_ a military-grade clone. Is what I'm saying,” he mumbled, looking down at the sheets.

Keeler frowned. “Well he never said anything about this to _me--”_

“It's possible he didn't even know, or wasn't allowed to tell anyone,” Cain said. He pressed a knuckle over his lips, looking at Keeler ponderously. “And now, the Colterons have got him.”

Keeler hugged himself tight, shaking his head in disbelief. “No... no that just can't be right--”

Cain reached over and grabbed Keeler by the shoulders. “--Keeler. Think about it,” he insisted. “Remember what you said during the battle? They had _never used a strategy like that before._ Something changed.”

“You're suggesting,” Keeler said through gritted teeth, his voice wavering. “That the Colterons _assimilated_ London and made him their lead strategist?”

“Maybe...” Cain said, looking at Keeler with some hint of worry that took a moment for Keeler to understand.

Keeler clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god. What about _Abel?_ He's a military-grade clone, too?”

“Well,” Cain sighed, scratching at an eyebrow. “Abel is a weird case. Before Bering made me and Abel a team, he told me the Alliance had been commissioning clones from a mysterious source, but that Abel was commissioned by private citizens... his parents. But he has the trademark--”

“--And that's why Bering wanted Abel for the engine project.”

“Exactly.”

“So Abel doesn't know,” Keeler guessed.

“Abel doesn't know a lot of things,” Cain muttered, looking down at the sheets again, shaking his head as he smoothed out a wrinkle with his finger. Finally he looked back up at Keeler. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I'm not _allowed_ to do anything, remember?” Keeler groaned. “I'm under house arrest.”

“Right... well then I'll go talk to Encke,” Cain said, and started pushing himself up off the bed.

But without really understanding why, Keeler grabbed Cain's wrist and pulled him back. He scrambled to find an excuse as Cain looked back at him impatiently. “If you go now, he'll know you were in here,” Keeler tried.

“I think the future of the war is a little more important than our reputations with Encke,” Cain said, trying to pull away. But Keeler gripped even tighter, and pulled him back again.

“If you're right, about all of this, then Command already knows. They'd know about Abel, and they'd know about London, too. There's no reason to wake Encke up to tell him.”

Cain squinted to see Keeler's face in the dark. “That might be, but that's not why you're stopping me from leaving,” he said.

“No...” Keeler confessed, his throat tightening more and more with every word. “I'm stopping you from leaving... because I don't want it to be true...”


	23. Chapter 23

 

**Abel**

 

That night, Abel dreamed he was an eagle, flying over miles and miles of rivers and trees, searching with sharp eyes for something he could never find. He only had to flap his wings to soar higher and higher into the sky until he reached the clouds, effortless and free. Despite that, he couldn't help but feel lost, with the landmarks below him unfamiliar and ever-changing. _Where am I going?_ Abel asked his eagle self. _I can't even remember what I'm looking for anymore._

 

But Abel knew exactly where he was when he woke up, surrounded by the harsh hospital lights and the clicks and beeps of too many machines. Everything beeped twice as loud and shone twice as bright, thanks to the hangover from his cocktail of drugs the day before.

The window to his prison doubled as a computer screen, although at that moment only a small icon appeared, pulsing just a few feet away from Abel's head. Abel pointed at it, and it came to life, four large, transparent panels dancing with pictures and descriptions of meals.

“What's this?” Abel asked the computer.

“Hospital menu for officers,” came the response.

“But... I'm not an officer...?”

“You'll be dining with an officer for lunch,” the digitized voice explained.

“Oh!” Abel smiled. So Keeler was finally coming to visit him.

“Please note that your visitor prefers the pronoun 'she', and the honorific 'sir'.”

“Oh.” Abel frowned, contemplating all of the delicious options in disappointed silence.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Cain**

Cain stormed into Central first thing in the morning, muscles achy and head groggy from too much sex and too little sleep. Encke stood there alone in his flight suit, seeming to stand guard over all the empty chairs, that would be filled with Navigators later in the morning.

“Encke! Good, you're here. There's something I need to-- wait a minute...” Cain halted in front of one of the screens, scowling as he studied the information. “Why are there two antimatter-equipped M class destroyers escorting us? Are we expecting company?!”

“That's none of your concern, Cain,” Encke said flatly, not even bothering to turn around.

Cain shook it off, not having the patience to deal with mysteries or Encke's mood. “Whatever... listen. Keeler and I were talking last night, and we figured something out about London--”

“ _What_ did you say?” Encke turned his head, giving Cain a deadly glare out of the corner of his eye.

Cain raised an eyebrow, darting his eyes, trying to figure out what he'd said to piss Encke off. “Keeler and I were... uh... talking?”

“Was that _all_ you did?” the Lieutenant asked through gritted teeth.

“Uh...” Cain took too long to answer, and the next thing he knew Encke was rushing towards him, pushing him backwards and pinning him up against the steel wall. Cain tried to push back, but Encke had him in an iron grip. “The fuck's gotten into you?!”

“I asked you to escort Keeler to his room, not _put him to bed,”_ Encke shouted.

“But –- but I thought --”

“I know what you thought. But if you have harmed even _one hair_ on his head,” Encke growled, his breath burning hot on the side of Cain's face. “I will destroy you so _utterly_. So _completely_. That it will create a singularity. Do you understand me?”

“Death by black hole. Got it, boss,” Cain croaked, craning his head away from the hand that was starting to close around his neck. He may have passed Encke in the rankings when it came to shooting down 'Terons, but Encke could still best him in a fight. Especially if he caught Cain by surprise, which seemed to be his favorite thing to do.

Encke leaned in even further, staring Cain down with cold eyes. “If I see anything that _remotely_ looks like a scar...”

Cain's eyes widened before he could stop them, but he quickly recovered, flaring his nostrils as he returned Encke's icy glare.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Abel**

 

Abel tried to think of it like room service, getting to sit in bed and drink orange juice and nibble on a bagel, as he read a book. It would have been a nice vacation, if not for all of the security measures. Abel couldn't even concentrate on reading, instead imagining himself mindlessly tearing through the hospital and fighting with guards. He didn't feel like anything was wrong with him. But maybe that was just what the Colterons wanted him to think. Maybe Halley hadn't thought anything was wrong with him either.

Suddenly, someone appeared in the adjacent hallway, walking between the two guards where they were obstructed from Abel's view.

“I need this room cleared, please.” The voice rang like a bell, bright and feminine, with an Earth accent that sounded nothing like Abel's own.

“Ma'am, we are only to leave our posts if ordered to do so by Lieutenant Commander Siren,” one of the guards answered.

“I am Lieutenant Commander Siren,” the voice stated, sounding completely unimpressed.

“Oh! My apologies, sir. Right away, sir.”

“You are permanently dismissed, actually. Go back to your duties.”

“Aren't you going to wear a bio suit, sir?” the other guard said nervously.

“No need,” Siren answered.

“Yes sir,” both guards saluted, and then marched quickly out of the door.

 

The Commander walked in, and Abel could immediately understand the guards' confusion. Siren wore no officer's insignia, just plain navy blue scrubs, and a grey lab coat that went down to her knees. As Abel had suspected from her accent, she was definitely from Earth; her snow white hair was buzzed short on one side, and unfurled around her shoulders on the other, with pink and orange streaks through her bangs. “Good morning, Abel!” she said cheerily. “Oh, don't get up...”

“Oh, good morning, sir,” Abel answered as he sat back against his pillow, giving the officer a sleepily grateful smile.

“As you probably heard, my task name is Siren...” she said, going over to the window to pull up Abel's chart on the screen. “I'm with Intelligence.” She stared at the transparent chart intently, putting her hands on her hips. The long coat fell back, revealing a sidearm holstered at her waist.

“Y-you're a doctor?” Abel stammered, his heart suddenly in his throat and making the monitor beep obnoxiously.

Siren turned to look quizzically between him and the machine. “Well, they like me to use the term, 'exobiologist'. But I did start out as a doctor for humans. Psychiatry to be exact.” Siren waved her hand to flip through the several pages of the chart. “And as such, I am one of the few people with the security clearance, and the qualifications, to examine you," she said, still staring at screen.

 _Examine, not execute?_ Abel thought to himself. “Oh, I see,” he said with a small sigh of relief.

“Consequently, I was also one of the few people that could do the autopsy,” Siren noted, looking pointedly at Abel, since of course he knew what she was referring to.

Abel swallowed hard. “...Right.”

Siren went over to a set of drawers, opening and closing each one in turn, before finally pulling out a metallic looking cap. “If you would, put this on, snugly over your _very_ nice hair,” she said, walking over and handing it to Abel.

“Oh... thanks...”

“Do you color your bangs yourself?” she asked.

“Oh, no,” Abel said, struggling a bit with his injured arm to get the cap all the way on. “They're natural.”

“Hm. Interesting,” Siren said, as if it weren't interesting at all. “Oh here, let me help you with that,” she said, pulling the other side of the cap onto Abel's head. “Right. Now let's see what we've got, shall we?”

Siren went back over to the window, flipping through menus with her hand until she brought up an image of Abel's brain. She drew a circle with her finger, and zoomed in on the area by spreading her fingers wide. Abel suddenly got a weird sense of déjà vu, watching Siren press a finger over her mouth as she contemplated the scan with dark brown eyes. “Oh I'm _so relieved_ I'm not going to have to kill you...” she muttered after a moment.

“W-what?!” Abel squeaked.

“Well,” Siren said, wiping away the image of the brain and then turning to Abel. “Having recently become an expert on the subject, I can definitively say, that you will not... err, _contract the same condition_ that Halley had. It wasn't a contagion. It was procedural. And that's about all I can say on the subject.”

“O-oh! Well... that's great news?” Abel said.

“Certainly is,” Siren agreed, rolling a tall chair over to Abel's bed and plopping down on it. She pulled a small tablet out of her lab coat and began making notes.

Abel nervously twiddled his thumbs. “Um, do you mind if I ask you one thing about Halley, though?” he asked.

Siren looked up from her tablet, reclining back into the chair. “Well, you can ask what you like, but I make no guarantees I'll be able to answer.”

Abel looked down at his hands. “Could Halley... have been saved? If... I hadn't killed him? Could you have turned him back?”

The Commander didn't answer right away, taking a moment to take in and release a deep breath. “I'm afraid that hasn't been determined,” she said finally. “And even if it had been, I couldn't tell you.”

“Right. I understand.”

“So! Here's what I'd like to do,” Siren said, going back to making notes on her tablet. “I'd like to release you from quarantine early, and let you return to your ship. However, fourteen days is the protocol, when there is any chance of having come into contact with alien microbes. And it's been that way for centuries, since we first landed on the moon! So, in order for me to override the protocol, I have to be sure.” She looked up at Abel, with that same very pointed gaze. “I will have to do thorough physical and psychological examinations.”

“I understand,” Abel nodded.

Siren folded her arms over her chest. “Processing all of the tests will probably take some time... since I'll have to handle all the samples by myself. But I hope to have you out of here in about three days. How's that sound?” she asked with a gentle smile.

Abel wasn't sure how to answer, thinking about all of the things that awaited him when he got back, all his indecision about Cain and Keeler still left hanging in the air. “Just fine, sir.”

Siren's forehead wrinkled. “ _Just fine?”_ she scoffed. “I would think you would be all too eager to get out of here.”

“Oh, heh, yes of course!” Abel answered with a forced smile, which he was sure did not escape the Commander's scrutiny.

“Well, since I'm fairly certain there's nothing wrong with the rest of you,” Siren said, leaning onto one of the arm rests and lifting an ankle on top of her knee. “Let's start with your head.”

Abel's eyes shot open at her words, a bit mortified by the lack of political correctness. “Uh, yes, sir,” he managed.

“So, tell me. Since the... _incident,_ have you had any trouble sleeping?”

“No, sir,” Abel answered.

“Any nightmares?” Siren asked.

“No, sir.”

“Have you felt...” Siren made a gesture with her hands, searching for words. “On edge at all? Easily startled by things?”

Abel shook his head, thinking hard. “Not that I can remember.”

“That's fine...” The Commander said, making more notes. She brought the stylus of her tablet up to her lip, looking up at the ceiling ponderously. “Have you had any visitors?” she said at last.

“Oh, yes! My Fighter came to see me,” Abel answered, and immediately the heart monitor began beeping its raucous, accusatory song.

 _Mudak._ Abel silently cursed it with one of the words Cain had taught him in Russian.

Siren narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “And he was also present during the incident, is that correct?”

“Yeah –- I mean, yes sir,” Abel stammered.

“It's alright, Abel,” Siren said, and for the first time that morning, Abel thought he actually detected sympathy in her voice. “I'm here as a doctor, not as a superior.”

“Oh,” Abel nodded. “Of course.”

The Commander was quiet for a few moments, looking at Abel with softer eyes than before. “Did you and your Fighter have a good visit?” she asked finally.

_Oh the things I would do to you right now, if I could touch you._

“Oh, sure.” Abel's voice cracked a bit as he remembered Cain's words, and the beeping got even faster and louder. “He – he brought me some things from our quarters,” he said, holding up his own tablet as proof.

“Well that was nice of him!” Siren remarked, still studying Abel carefully. She tilted her head to the side. “...How did you feel about seeing him?”

Abel tried not to show his horror, but it was no use, betrayed by the beeping monitor and the heat rising in his cheeks.

Siren snickered and rolled her eyes. “I think we can turn that off, computer. Obviously there's nothing wrong with his heart,” she said, and the beeping stopped, leaving the room painfully silent.

Siren folded her hands in her lap, once again tilting her head to the side. “Why don't you tell me about your relationship with your Fighter?” she said calmly.

“We, um,” Abel had to swallow to clear his throat for words to come out, going over all the possibilities. She might suspect they were sleeping together, or even worse, that Abel was afraid of Cain. “We get along just fine,” he tried.

Siren gave him a pitying, almost amused smirk. “Abel. You see this form here?” she said, and pointed to her tablet. “There's a tickbox that says _'fit_ to return to duty', and then there's one that says _'not_ fit to return to duty'. And then there's this tiny blank for me to put comments. Now, I can assure you that what we talk about in here will remain confidential.” And then Siren giggled. “Mostly because I just really couldn't fit it all into this space!”

Abel pressed a finger over his lips, as he looked at her with pleading eyes. And Abel didn't know how he knew, but there was something about Siren that told him he could trust her.

“So,” Siren tried again, scooting the chair a little closer. “Would you like to tell me about your Fighter?”

Abel took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and then told Siren about Cain.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Cain**

 

“Get the fuck off me,” Cain barked, encouraging Encke to do just that with a knee between his legs and two hands shoving at his armored chest. “You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!”

“Oh don't I?” Encke taunted, falling backwards but quickly recovering into a fighting stance. “Admit it. If you and Abel were just friends, and he was fucking another Fighter, what would you do?”

“Well I'd kill the bastard, of course,” Cain sneered, as he and the Lieutenant began to circle around each other. “Is that what you're gonna do? Kill me? When this was your fucking idea in the first place? You wanted me to fix things remember?” Cain spat the words at him, hoping to distract Encke from a surprise left hook. But Encke just caught it, using Cain's own arm to twist him around. The next thing he knew, Encke had him in a chokehold.

“Toying with Keeler's feelings isn't fixing things!” Encke growled, his voice strained from keeping Cain in place. “Despite what you may think... you can't have both of them, Cain...”

He stopped struggling for just a split second, his eyebrows raising as Cain considered the thought for the first time. Why _couldn't_ he have them both? “I wasn't... toying... with Keeler's feelings!”

Encke laughed dangerously in his ear. “Don't even try to tell me you actually care for him like that.”

Cain didn't feel like being pinned down on that particular point. “Why does it fucking matter? Do you?!” Cain snapped back, clawing into the other Fighter's arm. Encke took too long to answer, which served as an answer in and of itself. Cain's lungs almost seized with anger, and he used the new burst of energy to grab Encke's head from behind, and throw the Lieutenant over on his back.

 _"Mudak!"_ he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Encke's face. _“Ni khuya sebe!_ You could have fucking said something!”

“Hey! You two! Stop it!”

Cain spun his head around to see a very pissed looking Ethos standing in the door way.

“What's going on here?!” Ethos demanded. “Am I gonna have to put both of you in the brig for fighting, and run the ship by myself?!”

Cain looked down at the floor. “No...” he mumbled.

“No...” Encke mumbled too.

“Good,” Ethos said, crossing his arms victoriously. “Now shake hands and apologize.”

Cain turned to Encke, offering him a hand to help him off the floor, but Encke just swatted it away, insisting on getting up on his own. Once he'd stood up, the two Fighters just looked at each other awkwardly, until finally Encke reached out his hand and they shook.

“Sorry, man,” Cain muttered. 

“Yeah. Sorry,” Encke repeated.

“I didn't know you felt that way.”

“Yeah, well,” Encke said with a sigh. “I don't think I really knew either. But... I don't want you to stop seeing him just because of that. I guess, it's really about who he wants in the end.”

“Yeah...” Cain shrugged wearily.

“Wait... Encke likes Abel?!” Ethos asked in disbelief.

“Never mind,” Encke said quickly, and then turned back to Cain. “Now what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh yeah,” Cain said in a hurry. “So I was talking to Keeler about London, and I--” but Encke abruptly stopped him in his tracks.

“Cain, no. I don't want to hear anything else about him. And you can't talk about him in front of Ethos,” Encke ordered, pointing at the curly headed Substitute Lead Navigator in Waiting or whatever the fuck his title was.

“No, but this is important,” Cain insisted. “Really important.”

“Okay, let me word that another way,” Encke said, glaring at Cain. “I _can't_ hear anything else about London. I don't have the security clearance to hear about London.”

Cain straightened his back, and crossed his arms, suddenly inspired by Keeler's determination from the night before. “Well then, I need you to find me someone who can.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Abel**

“So now he says, that he doesn't deserve me, if I'm not happy.” Abel explained, and then leaned his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. “But honestly, I think I've spent such a long time, trying not to feel anything, that I just can't get used to the idea of being... happy. You know? When we're... _'together'_ , I just... don't feel anything. Emotionally, anyway.”

“Hmm...” Siren pondered, chin resting on her hand. “Well, what it sounds like, is that you've essentially _conditioned_ yourself to not feel anything. It sounds like you're using sex as an escape from all of the stresses of your job, and maybe even the stresses of your personal life. You're just... letting him take over. You know, _dominate_ you, think _for_ you so that you don't have to think. Does that sound right?”

Abel just nodded sheepishly, and Siren nodded too.

“Sex can be a good stress reliever,” she pointed out. “But we just have to be sure that we're not using it so much, to the point that we become dependent upon it.”

Abel frowned. “You're saying I'm addicted to sex with Cain.”

“No, no. I'm not saying that,” Siren said with a chuckle. “What I _am_ saying, is that by using sex to avoid negative emotions, like stress... well, it's affecting your quality of life in a way. It's affecting your relationships. Your partner is not satisfied with the level of emotional connection that the two of you have.” Siren leaned back in her chair and shrugged. “And honestly it's very mature of him to have observed this and been able to talk to you about it.”

“Huh, yeah...” Abel laughed to himself at the thought of Cain being mature about anything.

“Now the question is,” Siren continued. “What do _you_ want? Do you want to have a deeper emotional connection when you're being intimate with him? Or... is it really just sex for you?”

Abel thought for a few moments. “Well... I guess I do. Yeah.”

“Do you love him?” Siren asked with another tilt of her head.

“Ugh...” Abel groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillow, wishing he could kick himself for not knowing the answer.

“Sore subject, eh?” Siren asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Abel said helplessly.

“Well, just try,” Siren suggested. “Try to explain to me, how you feel about him. In whatever words you would use....take your time.”

Abel sighed. “I just feel so stupid. Here I'm being hospitalized and examined for this crazy, unbelievable thing that happened, and we're talking about my love life. Or... lack thereof,” he said, looking down at the blanket to avoid Siren's eyes.

“Truthfully Abel, it's alright,” she insisted. “Because you've been through a stressful experience. And now we've learned the coping mechanism by which you deal with stress, haven't we?”

“Yeah, that's true,” Abel admitted, still not looking up.

“And honestly, after what I saw yesterday,” Siren said gravely. “I'd much rather talk about something mundane like this.”

Abel looked at her then, knowing that she couldn't talk about it, even if she wanted to. Even if she needed to.

“But you're not getting out of answering the question,” Siren said, pointing a playfully accusing finger at Abel. “Tell me about Cain.”

“Okay,” Abel agreed, and swallowed hard to buy time. “Cain... is hard to get to know. He doesn't like letting people in.” Abel nervously rubbed his fingers together as he talked. “And when I first met him, I thought I knew him pretty instantly.”

“He was.... a Fighter!” he reminisced with a small laugh. “Which meant that he was probably crazy... and dangerous... He was this destructive force that couldn't really be steered in any given direction, that just had to be kept in check.”

“But I know better now. He's really not like that at all. Fighters really aren't like that at all. They're humans, just like us,” he looked up at Siren, who nodded in encouragement for him to continue.

“Well, like I said, Cain is still hard to get to know, because you have to get past that... wall that they all put up,” Abel put two hands over his chest to demonstrate. “You know? They're constantly guarding themselves with this invisible shield. But every once in a while, there are these... snippets of things from his past, these moments of _truth,_ these tiny little morsels of... affection, or emotion, or, you know... vulnerability?” He looked again at the doctor, just to see if she understood at all. Siren just raised her eyebrows, with no hint of judgment on her face.

“And when I finally get to see that... when he finally lets me in?” Abel paused for a few moments, searching for a way to explain. “...It's like, getting to see a meteor flash across the sky. It's beautiful, and sometimes scary,” he admitted, glancing over at Siren and then back at his hands. “And breathtaking. And there's just something so... _rewarding_ , about knowing that I was there to witness it, something that so few people, that maybe no one else will ever get to see.”

Abel leaned back against the pillow again and closed his eyes. “And so, yeah? I guess... if that's what love is like, or what it _can_ be like? It's hard to say because, well... loving Cain is _hard_. It's _work,_ enduring through all the times when I feel like I don't know him at all.”

Abel had to stop, his throat suddenly raw, his sinuses hurting with tears trying to force their way out. “But at the same time, I know that... I'm not done getting to know him yet. I know that there's this... endless abyss of those tiny, tiny little moments just waiting to be discovered.”

Abel dabbed at the corner of his eye with a finger, bringing away a single, salty tear. “And honestly?” he said, finally looking at Siren again. “I think that I could wait for those moments... for the rest of my life... for the next one, and the next one, and the next one.”

 

“Good, Abel,” Siren said quietly, and Abel exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, waiting for her to release him from the daunting task. “I think that's an excellent start. And I've got a news flash for you: love is hard.” She nodded her head sympathetically. “But understand that there is a difference. Between having to work at a relationship, and that relationship just... completely draining you. One of these things is healthy and the other one is not.”

“Right,” Abel agreed, not trusting himself to say anything else without crying.

Siren got up, grabbing a paper towel from the sink and handing it to Abel. “But I can't tell you, what you should do. You know? Unfortunately that's not my job. Since it seems I'm in the position of therapist at the moment –- which I really don't mind by the way,” she said, sitting back down in her chair, as Abel wiped his eyes. “My job, is to make sure that you can live with whatever it is that you decide. Could you live with yourself, if you broke things off with Cain?”

“No,” Abel shook his head frantically, not caring if it was a rhetorical question. He was breathless just at the thought of it.

“No,” Siren repeated. “Could you live with yourself, if you broke things off with Keeler?”

Abel shook his head slower this time. The paper towel was a twisted clump in his hands. “I don't think so.”

“Well, then something has to change,” Siren said with a shrug. “Either you have to figure out how to be okay with that decision, or you have to admit that one of them isn't as right for you as the other. Because in all likelihood, Abel, let's be honest. You can't have them both.”

Outwardly, Abel snorted in agreement, but inwardly, he found the wheels in his head turning, wondering why not. Why couldn't he have them both?

“But... that's not a problem that's going to solve itself overnight,” Siren was saying. “However, I do think that we can work on this other issue. So I'm going to give you a bit of homework. And then we're going to get on with the rest of the examination. All right?”

“Okay,” Abel agreed, still sniffling just a little.

Abel listened to what she said after that, but only barely heard it. His mind was flying, very purposefully, in the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mudak - asshole or dickhead (literally means testicle)  
> ni khuya sebe! - no fucking way


	24. Chapter 24

**Keeler**

 

_“Spock!!!”_

Keeler sat on his bed, hiding half his face behind a pillow, clutching it tight since he knew he was going to cry, since he always cried at this part of the movie.

_“The needs of the many… outweigh…” Spock rasped on the screen._

_“...The needs of the few,” Kirk finished for him patiently._

_Spock nodded slowly. “Or the one.”_

But it was different this time, hitting too close to home, with a ship named _Reliant_ , and Abel now divided from all of them by several inches of thick plexiglass, and the vacuum of space besides. Keeler’s throat throbbed, swollen with emotion as a tear became too heavy and rolled off his cheek and into the pillowcase.

_“I have been… and always shall be… your friend--”_

A sudden chirp at the door made Keeler nearly jump out of his skin. He swallowed hard, voice hoarse like Spock’s as he addressed the computer. “Who’s at the door?”

(Task name: Encke)

(Designation: Lead Fighter)

“Shhhit…” Keeler whispered, not even waiting for the computer to finish as he jumped off the bed, casting the pillow aside, frantically wiping his eyes and straightening his pajamas. Encke probably wouldn’t be happy about the fact that Keeler had spent his whole two days of confinement lounging around in civilian boxers and watching old sci-fi movies, but Keeler figured he’d spent enough time thinking hard about what he’d done and feeling bad about it.

 

“Keeler?!” Encke exclaimed, as the door opened and he saw Keeler’s puffy face.

“Hey,” he responded sheepishly, ineffectually pawing at his hair as he suddenly wondered what it looked like after his full day in bed.

The other Lieutenant looked at him out of the corner of one suspicious eye. “Have you been watching _Wrath of Khan_ again?” he scolded, and Keeler answered with a sharp, defensive glare, making him flinch. “Oh, well, you must be feeling a little better at least,” Encke sighed with relief. “Can... I come in?”

“Mmhm,” Keeler shrugged, stepping back to let him through the door, still too close to crying again to form words.

“I just need to get my dress blacks,” Encke explained once he was inside, studying Keeler with this concerned look on his face, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to be mad at Keeler for crying, or mad at the thing that made him cry. “I’m gonna go check out the officer’s club on the _Eir.”_

“Oh!” Keeler answered, attempting to sound encouraging, nodding his head with interest, but doing so in a calculatedly half-hearted way that wouldn’t encourage Encke to invite him along.

Encke pulled his uniform out of the closet and laid it out on the bed, already cleaned and pressed like he always kept it, always prepared for anything. Keeler stood there watching as Encke undressed, something unspoken thickening the silence in the air between them.

“So…” Encke said finally, just as Keeler was beginning to wring his hands thinking of something to say. “Are you ready to return to duty tomorrow?” he asked, just a hint of sternness in his voice, that air of authority he usually reserved for his subordinates.

“Yes,” Keeler nodded sincerely, knowing Encke was probably watching him out of the corner of his eye. “I am. Really. I… ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’ I should have remembered that.”

Encke chuckled softly. “Quoting Star Trek might earn someone extra points in your book, but me? Not so much,” he teased.

Keeler frowned, not at all in a joking mood. “I just… I know that I’m not completely okay... yet,” he bargained. “It’s gonna take me a while to get over this. I mean, losing London the first time was hard enough. You remember.”

“Huh, yeah,” Encke snorted solemnly, still distracted with putting on his trousers.

“But I think getting back to work will help me. It’ll give me something to do, to feel… normal,” he admitted, swallowing hard as he waited for Encke’s judgement.

Encke let out a sigh, finally looking at Keeler, still only half-dressed in his black trousers and grey undershirt. He crossed his arms, nodding almost imperceptibly. “Okay,” he said quietly, weighing something in his mind as he continued to nod. Keeler knew he wouldn’t drag it out, wouldn’t say much about what had happened. Encke wasn’t a lecturer; he had a way of getting his point across with silence rather than words when he was truly angry. Keeler did his best to remain perfectly still, but he shrank a little on the inside, counting how many notches he had taken himself down in Encke’s eyes.

“You’re still my best friend. You know that, right?” Encke said with a shrug.

It was the last thing Keeler had expected to hear. “Yeah. I know,” he whispered.

“That’s how I know that you’re better than this.”

Ah, there it was. Keeler nodded, his head hung low. Fighting with his ego for a humble response, he barely noticed when Encke took a step forward. And then they were hugging, and Keeler couldn’t have spoken even if he’d figured out what to say, his throat inflamed again from a new onslaught of unshed tears. Turned out that Encke could express a lot more than just disappointment with silence. Keeler just clung onto him, and for a split second, he let his mind think about turning the hug into something more. God, he just needed to be close to someone, needed to take comfort in someone’s arms, to lose himself in pleasure for just a little while. But somewhere in his heart, he knew that Encke wasn’t who he really wanted.

So the hug remained just a hug.

“This ship really does need you, Keeler,” Encke said finally, holding onto him by the shoulders as he pulled away. “Doing things on my own the past few days, it’s only reminded me how much we depend on you to keep things running.”

“I know,” Keeler answered, mustering up as much confidence as he could, in tears and his pajamas. “I’m ready.”

Encke turned and grabbed the belted jacket of his uniform off the bed. “Alright, well, why don’t you take the night off, and you can report in tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, sir,” Keeler responded, not managing to keep from smiling at his own joke.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me to the officer’s club?” Encke suggested hopefully, as he fastened the buckle of his waistbelt. “We could probably both use a drink.”

“Nah…” Keeler wrinkled his nose. “I don’t really feel like it.”

“Oh... okay…” Encke said, showing just a little bit of disappointment. “You’re just gonna spend your first night of freedom staying in?”

“...Yep,” Keeler lied, suddenly realizing exactly what he could do now that he was free.

“Suit yourself,” Encke shrugged. “Oh, by the way, Cain and Abel’s promotions came through.”

“Oh!” Keeler’s heart startled in his chest at the mention of the names. “G-great!” he stammered.

Encke nodded. “We can make it official first thing when Abel gets back,” he said, and then rushed into the small bathroom to take a look in the mirror.

“That’s tomorrow, right?” Keeler called to him.

“Yeah.”

Keeler stood there with his arms crossed, wheels turning, silently willing for Encke to hurry up and leave. _What could possibly be taking so long with hair that short,_ he thought, rolling his eyes.

But looking back at his nest of blankets and covers, it occurred to him that it was a bit suspicious to stand there waiting for Encke to leave. He made his way back over to the bed, and did his best to look incredibly comfortable, and engrossed in his laptop screen as Encke came out.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Encke sighed.

“Okay,” Keeler said, barely looking up from his computer.

“I’ll probably just sleep across the hall again. All my stuff is still over there, and I don’t feel like moving it when I get back,” Encke snickered, shifting awkwardly on his feet like he was waiting for something.

“Sounds good,” Keeler replied, giving Encke an efficient smile before returning his attention to the screen.

“Well… see ya,” Encke said, walking backwards out the door to their quarters.

“Have fun!” Keeler said as the door hissed shut in the Fighter’s face.

He sat there for a few moments, alert, calculating how much time it would take before Encke was down the hall and in the elevator, or halfway down the hall and then coming back because he forgot something. Once he was satisfied Encke was really gone, Keeler jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed. He had one hell of a plan, he thought, smiling to himself, mapping his multi-destination route through the ship carefully in his mind, as he rummaged through a storage bin under his bed and procured some necessary items. Then he slipped on his boots, took a cursory glance at his unbraided hair, decided he didn’t give a damn, and rushed out the door.

  


**Encke**

 

The officer’s club had just the kind of atmosphere that Encke had been hoping for, with cigarette smoke and electric jazz-rock wafting through the dimly lit room. It was busy, but not crowded, which meant Encke had the option of either rubbing elbows with some medical muckety-mucks, or just drinking alone until he forgot...  forgot _everything_ that had happened over the past week, all of the shit with command, and the shit with Keeler, and the looming threat of two M-class destroyers ready to blow his ship to smithereens if whatever disease Halley had was contagious, and had spread to the rest of the _Sleipnir’s_ crew.

As he approached the bar, he wondered just what he’d be able to afford to get drunk off of in such a ritzy place. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked, an older, gritty-looking colonial man.

“Uhh, what kind of beer do you have on tap?” Encke tried.

“I know that voice…” said someone behind him. He turned around to come face to face with an Earth-born, a pale blond in the clean white of an Intelligence uniform. “Lieutenant Encke, I presume?” she asked, once she’d extracted a small cigar from between her lips.

Encke recognized the intriguing accent he’d heard over secure channels a few days prior. “Oh, Commander Siren!” he said cheerfully, extending a hand. “It’s good to actually meet you in person!”

“Likewise…” she said with a bright smile as they exchanged a very firm handshake. “What brings you to the _Eir?”_

“Well, the _Sleipnir_ doesn’t have an officer’s club,” Encke explained. “So I thought I would check this one out.”

“Oh, looking to live it up a bit, eh?”

“Hehe, something like that,” he said quietly, knowing his wallet was a bit too thin for doing any real living.

"Well in that case, I think we can do a bit better than beer,” Siren teased.

Encke paused for a moment. _We?_

“...What did you have in mind?” he asked, trying to find a good balance between cordial and flirtatious.

“Hmm,” Siren pondered, still gracefully holding the cigar even as she brought a thoughtful finger up to her lips. “How about we ask the bartender to open us a bottle of Scotch? Blue Label?” she suggested. “On me?”

Encke’s eyes brightened at the prospect. “That sounds... perfect,” he said with a smile. “Do they sell those cigars here too?”

Siren pressed her lips together, giving Encke a mischievous smirk. “...maybe they do... and maybe they don’t,” she said, and then exchanged a few looks with the bartender behind the counter.

“How will you take your whiskey, sir?” the bartender asked him.

“Oh, uh… neat, please,” Encke answered.

“Neat for me as well,” Siren chimed in. “Will you bring it to our table?”

“Of course, ma’am,” the bartender replied, pulling a very expensive-looking bottle from underneath the counter.

“It’s sir, actually…” Siren corrected in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh, my apologies, sir. I’ll have it right out.”

“Right. Well, shall we?” she asked, turning to Encke and gesturing at an open table.

“Please, after you,” he responded, bowing his head slightly and silently thanking Keeler for making him watch enough old movies, that he knew how to act like he had manners.

He followed the Commander to the table, taking the moment when she wasn’t looking to let his eyes pop out of his head in celebration of his good fortune, and to steal a glance at her tall but slender form. She had curves, but was flat chested, and had chosen to present herself in the masculine version of the dress uniform. It suited her somehow, though, Encke thought. She was attractive in an androgynous sort of way that was exactly Encke’s type.

“You’ve had a rough week,” Siren noted as they both pull out chairs and sat down at the small table. “How are you holding up?”

Encke sighed. “Surprisingly well, considering the circumstances.”

“Mm,” Siren grunted in concurrence. “Yes, you and I share a secret. A quite... daunting one.”

Encke knew the secret of which she spoke. It was Siren’s job to decide whether the unknown threat had been contained, or whether the destroyers needed to… well, destroy everything within a parsec of the _Sleipnir’s_ location, the _Eir_ included. But with Abel returning the next day, it seemed that was a remote possibility now. “Right… Is that why you wanted to buy me a drink?” Encke joked.

“Maybe,” Siren answered simply. “Oh, speaking of...” she said as the bartender approached with two glasses of whiskey and a box of cigars, holding the latter out for Encke to choose.

“Oh, thank you very much,” he said, taking a cigar and slowly sniffing the wrapper to get a sense of how it would taste.

The bartender offered a cutter, and Siren offered a lighter, and after just a little bit of commotion, Encke managed to get squared away with his cigar. He couldn't help but notice the way that the Commander stared at him while he was taking the first few puffs, clearly liking something she saw even if she kept her face carefully blank.

“I notice you didn’t come to the club with your partner,” she observed, before turning her attention to the tumbler of whiskey in front of her.

“Oh, Keeler?” Encke answered, shaking his head. “No, he decided to stay in tonight.”

“Well, that’s too bad. I would have liked to meet him,” Siren said, fidgeting with her glass. “But, I suppose we all have our own way of coping with things.”

“Well, I decided to spare him the knowledge of… well, you know,” he said cryptically, giving Siren a significant look. She gave him a cautionary nod in answer before taking a draw of her cigar. “He’s dealing with a lot already.”

“Hmm,” the Commander hummed and then blew a cloud of smoke into the room. “So I was told.”

“I take it you spoke with Cain, then?” Encke guessed.

Siren looked up towards the ceiling, eyes wandering. “...Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't,” she joked again.

“Oh, you Intelligence people are so frustrating!” Encke declared, and they both laughed heartily for a moment. Encke took in a slow draw of his cigar, using the moment as an excuse to hold the Commander’s eyes. He was coming to the conclusion that she was good company, even if she did have a tendency to run a joke into the ground.  “But seriously, can I ask what you thought of him?” he asked, curious how the meeting had gone, but not want to ask directly.

“Of Cain?”

“Yeah -- Yes sir.”

Siren let out a small chuckle at that. “Well, he was very terse… astute in an obnoxious sort of way,” she said, making Encke snort into his glass of Scotch. “Bit of a temper… I’m afraid he doesn't like me too much. But I suppose,” she entoned slowly, touching a distracted finger to her chin. “That’s just because my interests don’t align with the interests of those he cares about.”

“Hmm,” Encke nodded, just to stay engaged in the conversation.

“I suspect,” Siren continued. “That he is intensely loyal to those that he has respect for. But, I also suspect that list is very short… I wouldn't want him as an enemy, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, that’s Cain all right,” Encke laughed quietly, impressed by her insight.

“Why do you ask?” she inquired with a tilt of her head that also served to get her long, colored fringe out of her eyes.

Encke raised his eyebrows to precede the surprising nature of his next statement. “Because I’m promoting him to second lieutenant,” he said, and then took a big gulp of expensive whiskey.  

“Oh ho ho!” Siren laughed, too amused and distracted to take another puff of her cigar. “Well… yes I can see that,” she stammered. “Yes… no, he’ll be a good complement to your command,” she asserted, finally becoming serious.

“Oh?” Encke raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

“Well,” Siren explained, setting her cigar down in the nearby ashtray. “Cain is the kind of person who strives to be the best at what he does. You know? There’s a difference between aspiring to be the best, and aspiring to be in charge.” She gestured with her two free hands to emphasize the disparity. “We tend to conflate the two sometimes,” she said, folding her fingers together to demonstrate.

“Right…” Encke managed to say. It was a bit difficult to pay attention to what she was saying, when she was saying it with such a fascinating accent.

“Cain will lead by example. Because as I said, as long as he respects you -- which I reckon would not be that difficult to do -- he will be your man. And that’s a lot better than having someone try to climb on your back, and stab you on their way up the ladder.”

“Hmm, true,” Encke conceded, and then figured it was a good time to change the subject. “This is a good cigar. Thank you.”

“Good. I’m glad you like it,” his host said sincerely.

“Yeah, it seems everything on this ship is top-shelf,” Encke noted, and Siren gave him a somewhat impressed, taken-aback look, quickly eyeing him up and down. Encke did a quick calculation and realized she’d misunderstood, and thought he’d been referring to her. Unsure of whether that was a good thing or not, he quickly back-pedaled. “Oh! I just meant… um… they did a great job patching up my crew,” he said, grateful that his skin and the room were just dark enough that maybe she wouldn't see him blushing.

“Yes,” Siren said quietly, and then gave her bottom lip the tiniest, victorious-looking nibble. “We’re very fortunate they were nearby. I, on the other hand, had to come all the way from Earth.”

“Wow. Is that why they call you Siren?” Encke teased. “Because you respond to emergencies?”

“Oh… no…” the Commander cleared her throat, chuckling awkwardly underneath it. “It’s a um, reference to Greek mythology?”

Encke rolled his eyes at himself and winced, holding his head up with two fingers and his elbow on the table, like somehow he could hide. “Oh... I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright, you’re just uninformed!” Siren laughed, but reached over and put a reassuring hand on Encke’s arm. “The sirens were a fictitious sea creature. They would sing a beautiful song, and lure sailors to their deaths,” she explained. “They would actually sing a custom song just for you, to get you to abandon your ship and come to them.”

“Hmm,” Encke responded, as he was in the middle of another big gulp of expensive whiskey in order to help recover from his blunders of the evening.

“The story goes,” Siren continued. “That Odysseus wanted to hear the song -- and survive. You know, minor detail --” she joked, making Encke snicker. “So he had his crew put beeswax in their ears. And had them tie _him_ to the mast of the ship, so he wouldn't try to jump overboard. No matter how much he begged, or pleaded, or threatened, they were not to let him free until they were a safe distance from the sirens.”

Encke’s wheels were turning. Did that mean in order to survive an encounter with this Commander, one had to be tied up? “Huh, that’s actually really cool. I’m just named after… some astronomer guy,” he said with a dismissive shrug.

“Yeah, well most people, who know the story, when they hear my task name, they ask _‘Oh, so do you sing?’_ ” she complained, her voice turning into a mocking version of her own accent. “So the answer I give is, ‘No, luckily for you, I do not.’”

“Haha, well I don’t know what this says about me,” Encke said before he could stop himself. “But… the first thing that came to my mind was… ‘Are you into bondage?’”

Encke regretted the question just as soon as it had popped out of his mouth. As he laughed awkwardly, Siren just stared at him for a moment, clearly a bit shocked. There was a very tense pause at the table, before she finally burst into hysterical laughter. Encke just took a smug sip of his Scotch and thanked the stars that officers had senses of humor, too.

 

**Cain**

 

Still dripping from his shower, Cain walked through the door to room 314, scrubbing at his hair with a small towel to distract himself from the knowledge, that once again the room was silent and empty. His eyes still wandered around the small space, just to make sure that there was no sign at all that Abel was there.

He kept moving, very purposefully picking out some clothes to wear to sleep that night, before digging into the bottom of their foot locker for the last of his stash of Fireflies, the very strong brand of cigarettes he’d obtained on his and Abel’s trip to the colonial moon. Cain didn’t usually smoke them; they had some kind of chemical in them that the Earthlings had decided to ban from their planet and the ships in their fleet, and that was enough to motivate him to sell them for profit instead of smoking them himself. But he felt the need for something a bit more intense on that particular night, and he’d be lying if he said they didn't remind him of Abel. Cain leaned back into his bottom bunk, feet hanging over the edge as he took in a deep draw and scanned his tablet for something interesting to read.

Remembering something he’d been wondering about earlier, Cain balanced the cigarette in his fingers as he tapped a sentence into the search engine: “can you have three people in a relationship”. The search results directed him to an article titled ‘Polyamory’, which made him frown skeptically, since it wasn't a yes or no answer, but he clicked the link anyway.

He’d barely started reading the article, however, when there was an unexpected chime at the door. Cain’s head shot up, but then he froze, as he worked out the likelihood that Abel was returning early and had inexplicably decided to knock before entering.

Frowning even more, Cain put his cigarette out on the steel wall and stood up, making his way over to the door with a bit of caution in his step. He pushed the button with his thumb to open the door, and to his surprise, found the hallway outside empty. A bit confused, and more than a bit suspicious, Cain stepped one foot out, and leaned forward to check down the hall to his left and right. Not seeing anyone, he turned and looked a little harder to the left.

Just as Cain’s instincts started to scream that something was very wrong, an unseen force lunged at his chest, knocking him back into the room and onto the floor. Cain tried to fight, but his attacker pinned him there, growling and writhing under invisible weight.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally gonna have Encke have a thing with Ethos, but then... yeah. This happened. In case you hadn't figured it out by now, Siren is gender-queer. This will be her last appearance in this story but she also has a role in the sequel, which hopefully I will get around to writing eventually.  
> I decided to name the ship where Abel was being kept the _Eir_ , which is a being in Norse mythology associated with healing.  
> Also I rewatched Wrath of Khan recently and it was almost scary how much stuff was similar between this story and that movie... and it's been so long since I worked on Divided that I don't remember how much of it was on purpose. I know I got the idea that Cain and Abel might be super-clones from Wrath of Khan, since Khan's ship was called the _Reliant_. That has since been disproven, at least for Abel, Hamlet has said I believe that he's actually less genetically altered than some of the other navigators. But for the sake of continuity I kind of have to stick with my premise for the rest of this story. Oops! That's what happens when you write fanfic for an ongoing work I guess.


	25. Chapter 25

**Cain**

In that moment, Cain saw red. Arms pinned to the floor, he bared his teeth, ramming his head forward but missing his invisible attacker, kicking at it with one free leg. A figure slowly emerged in the dim light, holographic shards flying everywhere.

“Guh! Whoa, Cain… it’s me! _It’s me!”_

Cain froze, horrified as a familiar voice and face came into view. “Keeler?!” he yelped, heart thumping hard in his chest.

“Hi,” Keeler answered, clearly out of breath from their struggle.

“...You scared the motherfucking piss out of me!” Cain complained, though now he was just scared that if he’d been just a tad quicker, that he might have really hurt the other man.

“Sorry,” Keeler said smugly, leaning his face closer to Cain’s face. “I just… I know you like it to be a bit… rough...”

“Mmph!” he tried to ask what exactly that meant, but then Keeler was showing him, kissing him forcefully with a hand pulling at his hair to keep his head from hitting the floor. Still a bit shocked about the whole thing, Cain couldn’t make up his mind, wavering between resisting and giving in, between letting Keeler kiss him, and lunging forward with his own demanding lips.

Keeler still had him pinned to the floor, so Cain pushed against him, trying to get free, but the blond shifted and held him fast, clamping his teeth down on Cain’s lip as a warning, even as he rolled their hips together to show that he knew all too well that Cain was hard. He moaned despite himself, the brief second of panic at being trapped getting recycled into more arousal, more rage.

Keeler seemed satisfied that he had gotten him sufficiently worked up. “Hi!” he said with a friendly smile, all of the seduction and urgency suddenly gone, which gave Cain a moment to breathe and remember that he was in his room, the room he shared with Abel.

“What the fuck are you doing down here?!” he said frantically.

Keeler shrugged his shoulders, his hands loosening their grip on Cain’s wrists just a bit. “I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you,” he said quietly.

“On what?” Cain breathed in disbelief.

“On your promotion,” Keeler answered, and pressed his soft lips to Cain’s chin.

“...What?” he repeated, too turned on and mad to comprehend.

“To second lieutenant,” the blond said, and then his face disappeared into Cain’s neck.

“...Are you serious?!” Cain’s voice broke into a nervous laugh, which turned into a gasp as Keeler’s warm, exploring tongue found some ticklish spot under his jaw.

“I was thinking, maybe we could celebrate,” Keeler said huskily into his ear, before flicking his pierced lobe with his tongue and sucking on it carefully.

“What…” Cain swallowed, his brain fighting to form words. “What did you have in mind?” he said sarcastically.

“Well, I thought I could be the first one to kiss your ass,” came the response, before Keeler pressed his hot mouth onto Cain’s collarbone, taking one hand away to pull at his shirt and expose the skin.

With that unsettling idea, Cain finally got his hands free, and pulled the blond back up to look at his face. Studied it hard, searching for any hint of malice or ulterior motives, but there was none, just Keeler panting, hair a mess, mouth open, lips swollen with a lustful red. Still, Cain kept staring, waiting for the catch, suspicious as hell even if he’d been in as compromising a position with the beautiful Lieutenant before.

“What?” Keeler asked, with a playful but nervous chuckle, a smidgen of insecurity suddenly showing on his face.

“Um…” Cain pressed his lips together, giving Keeler a worried look of his own. “Keeler, what… what are you _doing?”_ Keeler frowned, and pulled back from him somewhat, eyes shifting, so Cain quickly continued. “I mean, first you’re going after Abel, and now me…”

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. “Do you want both of us?”

Keeler’s face turned red even in the dim light. “I -- I don’t know!” he said all at once, scrambling to climb off of Cain. He got to his feet and Cain quickly followed, sensing that Keeler might try to run off. “I don’t know what I want. I mean I _know_ I want Abel, but he's with you,” he admitted. “And then, I just can’t stop thinking about the other night,” he whispered emphatically with a helpless shrug. “It was just _soo…”_

“Fucking amazing?” Cain finished for him, and Keeler looked at him with wild eyes.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a furrowed brow, looking more and more worried every second. “I just knew I would probably never get to have you again once Abel came back, so I just figured… why not?”

Cain glanced down at the ground and then back up at Keeler, thinking carefully about what he wanted to say.

“I should just… go,” Keeler stammered, slinking towards the door.

“No no no!” Cain grabbed after him, holding him still by the shoulders. “Don’t… don’t leave,” he half-pleaded and half-commanded. He just needed a moment to think, think, think of what to say. “Listen,” he started with rumbly sigh. “The other night was… _really great,”_ he confessed. “But--”

“Cain,” Keeler groaned. “You don’t have to break up with me after sleeping with me one time--”

“No! That’s not…” Cain interrupted, still holding Keeler in place so he wouldn’t make a break for it. “That’s not what I’m saying.” That seemed to shut Keeler up, so he kept going. “It’s just… you do remember what happened, last time… afterwards?”

Keeler’s eyes shifted around. “You mean my heart?”

“Yeah. It’s just between your heart, and Abel’s… heart… it just seems like there’s a lot of opportunity for somebody to get hurt here,” Cain said carefully, looking into Keeler wide eyes.

“My heart isn’t gonna be a problem,” Keeler argued, though his tone was entirely unconvincing.

 _“Okay,”_ Cain conceded with a tilt of his head, not wanting to start a fight. “What about Abel?”

Keeler’s eyes fell to the ground. “He’s my friend and I’m being a complete dickhead?”

“Yeah,” Cain snorted solemnly. “You and me both.”

Keeler grunted, not quite meeting his eyes still. “So… why am I not leaving?”

Cain's mouth hung open for a few seconds while he let his brain get a head start. “I have an idea,” he said finally, and then reached for Keeler’s arm to pull him towards the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is with my utmost regret that I announce this fic is being discontinued. In short, it is just because I have no motivation to work on it anymore. I will try my best not to make a habit of not finishing things going forward, it was just that when I started this fic I was really new to writing and I sort of outgrew it. I've learned a lot since starting to write fanfiction about a year ago and so hopefully I know now how to finish a story as well as I can begin one.
> 
> And because I hate to leave you hanging, I will also try my best to give you some closure with the following tidbits from the planned rest of the story.
> 
> So, after this point in the story, Cain, Abel and Keeler decided to all be in a poly-amorous relationship. Even now I am still really fuzzy as to how exactly that conversation would have gone, or how Cain and Keeler would navigate through the fact that they slept together behind Abel's back, but, you know, somehow they managed. Abel will never find out about what Cain and Keeler did.
> 
> When Abel got back from the hospital, he and Cain had a glorious reunion, where they had some very lovey-dovey sex where they called each other by their real names. Also Abel FINALLY freakin' said 'I love you' to Cain, which made Cain a very happy panda but kind of guilty because fuck, he cheated on Abel. Fuck.
> 
> In a big old ceremony for which the entire crew was in attendance, Cain and Abel were promoted to Second Lieutenant. Officers' insignia are usually pinned on by someone close to the promotee, so Cain and Abel pinned the insignia on each other. Cuz like, they're best friends and stuff, you know? *looks at the rest of the ship that doesn't know they're fucking with an incredulous face*
> 
> Ummm, then Cain, Abel and Keeler had another threesome. Cain woke up in the morning with both of the blonds looking at him and giggling guiltily. After some interrogation he went over to the mirror, only to find they had put a tiny Axis-from-Teahouse style braid in his hair. He pretended not to like it.
> 
> (Epilogue) Several weeks later, Cain asked Keeler to come to their room (Cain and Abel lived up on the officers' deck at this point). Cain offered to give Keeler a pedicure (complete with some nail polish that Deimos 'borrowed' from Phobos), revealing that he used to work at his mom's salon when he was in high school. He used to wash feet/give foot massages, and so that was how he knew that some people can get very aroused by having their feet played with. In the middle of it, Abel walked in on them, and seeing the very odd display, remarked, "So, did you lose a bet or something?" 
> 
> Bad-dum tsssshhhhh
> 
> ROLL CREDITS! (song for the imaginary credits is Parachute by Ingrid Michaelson)


End file.
